GopyrightN0

COPYRIGHT
DEPOSIT
J
J
j
J
The Psammead
FIVE CHILDREN
AND IT

BY

E. NESBIT
AUTHOR OF "THE TREASURE-SEEKERS,'
"THE WOULD-BE-GOODS," ETC.

ILLUSTRATED

NEW YORK

DODD, MEAD & COMPANY

1905

J
 '
. -leCeiv

NUV 10 I >"-

. It.
C*. "" ' - -

COPYRIGHT, 1905, BY
DODD, MEAD AND COMPANY
PublishedOctober,1905
 TO

JOHN BLAND

' My Lamb, you are so 'very small,

You have not learned to read at all;
Yet never a printed bookwithstands
The urgenceof your dimpled hands.
So, though this bookis for yourself,
Let mother keepit on the shelf
Till you can read. O days that pass,
That day will come too soon, alas!
 NOTE

Parts of this story have appeared in

the Strand Magazine under the title of
"THE PSAMMEAD."
 CONTENTS

CHAPTER PAGE
I BEAUTIFUL AS THE DAY i

II GOLDEN GUINEAS 36

III BEING WANTED 7°

IV WINGS 108

V No WINGS 141

VI A CASTLE AND No DINNER 159

VII A SIEGE AND BED 183

VIII BIGGER THAN THE BAKER'S BOY 203

IX GROWN Up 236

X SCALPS 261

XI THE LAST WISH 287

 ILLUSTRATIONS

The Psammead Frontispiece

That First Glorious Rush Round the

Garden Facing page 2

Cyril Had Nipped His Finger in the

Door of a Hutch " " 4

Anthea Suddenly Screamed, " It's

"
Alive!" " , 12

The Baby Did Not Know Them! " " 28

Martha Emptied a Toilet-jug of Cold

Water Over Him " " 32

The Rain Fell in Slow Drops on to

Anthea's Face " " 36

He Staggered,and Had to Sit Down

Again in a Hurry 50

Mr. Beale Snatched the Coin, Bit It,

and Put It in His Pocket " " 58

They Had Run Into Martha and the

Baby " " 64

ix
 ILLUSTRATIONS

He Said, " Now Then!" to the

Policemanand Mr. Peasemarsh Facing page 66

The Lucky Children Hurriedly Started

for the Gravel Pit " " 78
" Poof, poof, poofy," He Said, and
Made a Grab " " 86

At Double-quick Time Ran the

Twinkling Legs of the Lamb's
Brothers and Sisters " " 88

The Next Minute the Two Were

Fighting " " 90

He Snatchedthe Baby from Anthea " " 94

He Consentedto Let the Two Gypsy

Women Feed Him " " 98

The Sand-fairy Blew Himself Out " " 122

They Flew Over Rochester " " 126

The Farmer Sat Down on the Grass,

Suddenly and Heavily " " 128
Everyone Now Turned Out His
Pockets " " 132

These Were the Necessaries of Life " " 134

The ChildrenWere Fast Asleep " " 138

X
 ILLUSTRATIONS

The Keeper Spoke Deep-Chested

Words through the Keyhole Facing page 150

There the Castle Stood, Black and

Stately " 164

Robert Was Dragged Forthwith-by

the Reluctant Ear " 166

He Wiped Away a Manly Tear " " 168

" Oh, Do, Do, Do, Do!" Said Robert " " 174

The Man Fell with a Splash Into the

Moat-water 196

Anthea Tilted the Pot over the

Nearest Leadhole " 198

He Pulled Robert's Hair " " 210

" The Sammyadd'sDone Us Again,"

Said Cyril " " 214

He Lifted Up the Baker's Boy and Set

Him on Top of the Haystack ' 216

It Was a Strange Sensation Being

Wheeled in a Pony-carriage by a
Giant " " 220

When the Girl Came Out She Was

Pale and Trembling " " 228

xi
 ILLUSTRATIONS

" When Your Time's Up Come to

Me" Facingpage 230
He Opened the Case and Used the
WholeThing asa GardenSpade " " 238
She Did It Gently by Tickling His
Nosewith aTwig of Honeysuckle " " 244

There, Sure Enough, Stood a Bicycle " " 248

The Punctured State of It Was Soon
Evident " 250

The Grown-up Lamb Struggled " 258

She Broke Open the Missionary Box

with the Poker " 266

"Ye Seeka Pow-wow?" He Said " " 278

Bright Knives Were Being Brandished

All about Them " " 284

She Was Clasped in Eight Loving

Arms " 294

" We Found a Fairy," Said Jane,

Obediently " " 298

It Burrowed, and Disappeared,

ScratchingFiercely to the Last " 3°8

xii
 CHAPTER I

BEAUTIFUL AS THE DAY

THEhouse
was
three
miles
from
the
station, but, before the dusty hired
hack had rattled along for five min-
utes, the children beganto put their headsout
of the carriage window and say, " Aren't we
nearly there?" And every time they passed
a house, which was not very often, they all
said, " Oh, is this it? " But it never was, till
they reachedthe very top of the hill, just past
the chalk-quarry and before you come to the
gravel-pit. And then there was a white house
with a green garden and an orchard beyond,
and mother said, " Here we are!"
" How white the houseis," said Robert.
"And look at the roses,"said Anthea.
"And the plums," said Jane.
" It is rather decent," Cyril admitted.
The Baby said, " Wanty go walky; " and the
hack stoppedwith a last rattle and jolt.
 FIVE CHILDREN AND IT

Everyonegot its legskickedor its feet trod-

den on in the scramble to get out of the car-
riagethat very minute,but no one seemed
to
mind. Mother, curiously enough, was in no
hurry to getout; andevenwhenshehadcome
downslowly and by thestep, and with nojump
at all, she seemedto wish to see the boxes
carried in, and even to pay the driver, instead
of joining in that first glorious rush round the
garden and orchard and the thorny, thistly,
briery, brambly wildernessbeyond the broken
gate and the dry fountain at the side of the
house. But the children were wiser, for once.
It was not really a pretty houseat all; it was
quite ordinary, and mother thought it was
rather inconvenient,and was quite annoyedat
therebeing no shelves,to speak of, and hardly
a cupboard in the place. Father used to say
that the iron-work on the roof and coping was
like an architect's nightmare. But the house
was deep in the country, with no other house
in sight, and the children had beenin London
for two years,without so much asoncegoing
to the seaside
evenfor a day by an excursion
2
That first gloriousrushroundthe garden
 BEAUTIFUL AS THE DAY

train, and so the White House seemedto them

a sort of Fairy Palace set down in an Earthly
Paradise. For London is like prison for chil-
dren, especially if their relations are not rich.
Of course there are the shops and theatres,
and entertainments and things, but if your
people are rather poor you don't get taken to
the theatres, and you can't buy things out of
the shops; and London has none of thosenice
things that children may play with without
hurting the things or themselves-such as
trees and sand and woods and waters. And

nearly everything in London is the wrong sort

of shape-all straight lines and flat streets,
instead of being all sorts of odd shapes,like
things are in the country. Trees are all dif-
ferent, as you know, and I am sure some tire-
some person must have told you that there are
no two blades of grassexactly alike. But in
streets,where the blades of grass don't grow,
everything is like everything else. This is
why many children who live in the towns are
so extremely naughty. They do not know
what is the matter with them, and no more
3
 FIVE CHILDREN AND IT

do their fathers and mothers,aunts,uncles,

cousins,tutors, governesses,
and nurses; but I
know. And so do you, now. Children in
the country are naughty sometimes,too, but
that is for quite different reasons.
The children had explored the gardensand
the outhousesthoroughly before they were
caught and cleanedfor tea, and they sawquite
well that they were certain to be happy at the
White House. They thought so from thefirst
moment,but when they found the back of the
house covered with jasmine, all in white
flower, and smelling like a bottle of the most
expensiveperfume that is ever given for a
birthday present; and when they had seenthe
lawn, all green and smooth,and quite different
from the brown grassin the gardens at Cam-
den Town; and when they found the stable
with a loft over it and someold hay still left,
they were almost certain; and when Robert
hadfound the brokenswing and tumbledout
of it andgot a bumpon hisheadthe sizeof an
egg, and Cyril had nipped his finger in the
door of a hutch that seemedmadeto keep rab-
4
Cyril had nippedhis finger in the
door of a hutch
 BEAUTIFUL AS THE DAY

bits in, if you ever had any, they had no longer

any doubts whatever.
The best part of it all was that there were
no rules about not going to places and not
doing things. In London almost everything
is labelled "You mustn't touch," and though
the label is invisible it's just as bad, because
you know it's there, or if you don't you very
soon get told.
The White House was on the edge of a hill,
with a wood behind it-and the chalk-quarry
on one side and the gravel-pit on the other.
Down at the bottom of the hill was a level

plain, with queer-shaped white buildings

where people burnt lime, and a big red
brewery and other houses; and when the big
chimneys were smoking and the sun was set-
ting, the valley looked as if it was filled with
golden mist, and the limekilns and hop-drying
housesglimmered and glittered till they were
like an enchanted city out of the Arabian
Nights,
Now that I have begun to tell you about
the place, I feel that I could go on and make
5
 FIVE CHILDREN AND IT

this into a most interesting story about all the

ordinary things that the children did,-just
the kind of thingsyou do yourself,youknow,
and you would believe every word of it; and
when I told about the children's being tire-
some,as you are sometimes,your auntswould
perhapswrite in the margin of the story with
a pencil, "How true!" or "How like life!"
and you would seeit and would very likely be
annoyed. So I will only tell you the really
astonishing things that happened, and you
may leave the book about quite safely, for no
aunts and uncles either are likely to write
"How true!" on the edge of the story.
Grown-up people find it very difficult to be-
lieve really wonderful things, unlessthey have
what they call proof. But children will believe
almost anything, and grown-ups know this.
That is why they tell you that the earth is
round like an orange,when you can seeper-
fectly well that it is flat and lumpy; and why
they say that the earth goes round the sun,
when you can seefor yourself any day that the
sun getsup in the morning and goesto bed at
6
 BEAUTIFUL AS THE DAY

night like a good sun as it is, and the earth

knows its place, and lies as still as a mouse.
Yet I daresay you believe all that about the
earth and the sun, and if so you will find it
quite easy to believe that before Anthea and
Cyril and the others had been a week in the
country they had found a fairy. At least they
called it that, because that was what it called
itself; and of course it knew best, but it was
not at all like any fairy you ever saw or heard
of or read about.

It was at the gravel-pits. Father had to go

away suddenly on business,and mother had
gone away to stay with Granny, who was not
very well. They both went in a great hurry,
and when they were gone the house seemed
dreadfully quiet and empty, and the children
wandered from one room to another and

looked at the bits of paper and string on the

floors left over from the packing, and not yet
cleared up, and wished they had somethingto
do. It was Cyril who said-"
" I say, let's take our spadesand dig in the
gravel-pits. We can pretend it's seaside."
7
 FIVE CHILDREN AND IT

" Fathersaysit wasonce,"Antheasaid;"he

saysthereare shellsthere thousands
of years
old."
So they went. Of course they had beento
theedgeof the gravel-pitandlookedover,but
they had not gone down into it for fear father
should say they mustn't play there, and it was
the samewith the chalk-quarry. The gravel-
pit is not really dangerousif you don't try to
climb down the edges, but go the slow safe
way round by the road, as if you were a
cart.

Each of the children carried its own spade,

and took it in turns to carry the Lamb. He
wasthe baby, and they called him that because
" Baa " was the first thing he ever said. They

called Anthea " Panther," which seems silly

when you read it, but when you say it it sounds
a little like her name.

The gravel-pit is very large and wide, with

grassgrowing round the edgesat the top, and
dry stringy wildflowers, purple and yellow.
It is like a giant's washbowl. And there
are mounds of gravel, and holes in the sides
 BEAUTIFUL AS THE DAY

of the bowl where gravel has been taken out,

and high up in the steep sides there are the
little holes that are the little front doors of the
little bank-martins' little houses.

The children built a castle, of course, but

castle-building is rather poor fun when you
have no hope of the swishing tide ever coming
in to fill up the moat and wash away the
drawbridge, and, at the happy last, to wet
everybody up to the waist at least.
Cyril wanted to dig out a cave to play
smugglers in, but the others thought it might
bury them alive, so it ended in all spadesgo-
ing to work to dig a hole through the castle to
Australia. These children, you see,believed
that the world wasround, and that on the other
side the little Australian boys and girls were
really walking wrong way up, like flies on the
ceiling, with their heads hanging down into
the air.

The children dug and they dug and they

dug, and their hands got sandy and hot and
red, and their facesgot damp and shiny. The
Lamb had tried to eat the sand, and had cried
9
 FIVE CHILDREN AND IT

so hard when he found that it was not, as he

had supposed,brown sugar, that he wasnow
tired out, and was lying asleepin a warm fat
bunch in the middle of the half-finished castle.
This left his brothers and sisters free to work
really hard, and the hole that was to comeout
in Australia soongrew so deep that Jane,who
was called Pussyfor short, begged the others
to stop.
" Supposethe bottom of the hole gave way
suddenly," said she, " and you tumbled out
among the little Australians, all the sand
would get in their eyes."
"Yes," said Robert; "and they would hate
us, and throw stones at us, and not let us see
the kangaroos,or opossums,or bluegums,or
Emu Brand birds, or anything."
Cyril and Anthea knew that Australia was
not quite so near as all that, but they agreed
to stop using the spadesand to go on with
their hands. This was quite easy,becausethe
sand at the bottom of the hole was very soft
and fine and dry, like sea-sand. And there
were little shells in it.
10
 BEAUTIFUL AS THE DAY

" Fancy it having been wet sea here once, all

sloppy and shiny," said Jane, "with fishesand
conger-eelsand coral and mermaids."
"And masts of ships and wrecked Spanish
treasure. I wish we could find a gold doub-
loon, or something," Cyril said.
" How did the seaget carried away?" Robert
asked.

"Not in a pail, silly," said his brother.

"Father says the earth got too hot under-
neath, as you do in bed sometimes, so it just
hunched up its shoulders, and the sea had to
slip off, like the blankets do us, and the shoul-
der was left sticking out, and turned into dry
land. Let's go and look for shells; I think
that little cave looks likely, and I seesome-
thing sticking out there like a bit of wrecked
ship's anchor, and it's beastly hot in the Aus-
tralian hole."

The others agreed,but Anthea went on dig-

ging. Shealwaysliked to finish a thing when
she had once begun it. She felt it would be
a disgrace to leave that hole without getting
through to Australia.
ii
 FIVE CHILDREN AND IT

The cave was disappointing, becausethere

were no shells, and the wrecked ship's anchor
turnedout to be only thebrokenendof apick-
axe handle, and the cave party were just mak-
ing up their minds that sand makesyou
thirstier when it is not by the seaside,and
someone had suggested that they all go
home for lemonade, when Anthea suddenly
screamed-
"Cyril! Come here! Oh, come quick-
It's alive! It'll get away! Quick!"
They all hurried back.
" It's a rat, I shouldn't wonder," said Robert.
" Father saysthey infest old places-and this
must be pretty old if the seawas here thou-
sandsof years ago "-
" Perhaps it is a snake," said Jane, shudder-
ing.
" Let's look," said Cyril, jumping into the
hole. " I'm not afraid of snakes. I like
them. If it is a snakeI'll tame it, and it will
follow me everywhere, and I'll let it sleep
round my neck at night."
"No, you won't," said Robert firmly. He
12
Anthea suddenly screamed," It's alive! "
 BEAUTIFUL AS THE DAY

sharedCyril's bedroom. " But you may if it's

a rat."
"Oh, don't be silly!" said Anthea; " it's not
a rat, it's much bigger. And it's not a snake.
It's got feet; I saw them; and fur! No-
not the spade. You'll hurt it! Dig with your
hands."
" And let it hurt me instead! That's so likely,
isn't it? " said Cyril, seizing a spade.
"Oh, don't!" said Anthea. "Squirrel, don't.
I-it soundssilly, but it said something. It
really and truly did"-
"What?"

" It said,' You let me alone.'"

But Cyril merely observed that his sister
must have gone off her head, and he and
Robert dug with spadeswhile Anthea sat on
the edge of the hole, jumping up and down
with hotness and anxiety. They dug care-
fully, and presently everyone could see that
there really was something moving in the bot-
tom of the Australian hole.

Then Anthea cried out, "I'm not afraid.

Let me dig," and fell on her kneesand began
13
 FIVE CHILDREN AND IT

to scratch like a dog does when he has sud-

denly rememberedwhere it wasthat he buried
his bone.

"Oh, I felt fur," she cried, half laughing

and half crying. "I did indeed! I did!"
when suddenly a dry husky voice in the sand
made them all jump back, and their hearts
jumped nearly as fast as they did.
" Let me alone," it said. And now every-
one heard the voice and looked at the others
to seeif they had heard it too.
" But we want to see you," said Robert
bravely.
" I wish you'd come out," said Anthea, also
taking courage.
" Oh, well-if that's your wish," the voice
said, and the sand stirred and spun and scat-
tered, and somethingbrown and furry and fat
came rolling out into the hole, and the sand
fell off it, and it sat there yawning and rubbing
the endsof its eyeswith its hands.
" I believe I must have dropped asleep,"it
said, stretching itself.
The children stood round the hole in a ring,
 BEAUTIFUL AS THE DAY

looking at the creature they had found. It

was worth looking at. Its eyeswere on long
horns like a snail's eyes,and it could move
them in and out like telescopes; it had ears
like a bat'sears,and its tubby body was shaped
like a spider's and covered with thick soft
fur; its legs and arms were furry too, and it
had hands and feet like a monkey's.
"What on earth is it?" Jane said. "Shall
we take it home?"

The thing turned its long eyesto look at her,

and said-

" Does shealways talk nonsense,or is it only

the rubbish on her head that makesher silly? "
It looked scornfully at Jane's hat as it spoke.
" She doesn'tmean to be silly," Anthea said
gently; "we none of us do, whatever you may
think! Don't be frightened; we don't want to
hurt you, you know."
" Hurt me!" it said. "Me frightened? Upon
my word! Why, you talk as if I were nobody
in particular." All its fur stood out like a
cat'swhen it is going to fight.
"Well," said Anthea, still kindly, "perhaps
15
 FIVE CHILDREN AND IT

if we knew who you are in particular wecould

think of something to say that wouldn't make
you angry. Everything we've said so far
seemsto have done so. Who are you? And
don't get angry! Because really we don't
know."

" You don't know? " it said. " Well, I knew

the world had changed-but-well, really-
Do you mean to tell me seriously you don't
know a Psammead when you see one?"
"A Sammyadd? That's Greek to me."
" So it is to everyone," said the creature
sharply. "Well, in plain English, then, a
Sand-fairy. Don't you know a Sand-fairy
when you seeone?"
It looked so grieved and hurt that Jane
hastenedto say, " Of courseI seeyou are,now.
It's quite plain now one comesto look at you."
" You came to look at me, several sentences
ago," it said crossly, beginning to curl up
again in the sand.
"Oh-don't go away again! Do talk some
more," Robert cried. " I didn't know you
were a Sand-fairy, but I knew directly I saw
16
 BEAUTIFUL AS THE DAY

you that you were much the wonderfullest

thing I'd ever seen."
The Sand-fairy seemeda shadelessdisagree-
able after this.

" It isn't talking I mind," it said, " as long as

you're reasonablycivil. But I'm not going to
make polite conversationfor you. If you talk
nicely to me, perhaps I'll answer you, and
perhaps I won't. Now say something."
Of courseno one could think of anything to
say, but at last Robert thought of " How long
have you lived here? " and he said it at once.
"Oh, ages-several thousandyears," replied
the Psammead.
" Tell us about it. Do."
" It's all in books."
" You aren't!" Jane said. " Oh, tell us every-
thing you can about yourself! We don't
know anything about you, and you are so
nice."

The Sand-fairy smoothed his long rat-like

whiskers and smiled between them.
"Do please tell!" said the children all
together.
17
 FIVE CHILDREN AND IT

It is wonderful how quickly you get used

to things, eventhe most astonishing. Five
minutesbefore,the children had had no more
ideathanyouhad that therewassucha thing
as a Sand-fairyin the world, and now they
were talking to it asthough they had known it
all their lives.
It drew its eyesin and said-
" How very sunny it is-quite like old times!
Where do you get your Megatheriums from
now?"

"What?" said the children all at once. It

is very difficult always to remember that
"what" is not polite, especially in momentsof
surprise or agitation.
" Are Pterodactylsplentiful now?" the Sand-
fairy went on.
The children were unable to reply.
"What do you have for breakfast?" the Fairy
said impatiently, " and who gives it to
you?"
" Eggsand bacon,and bread and milk, and
porridgeand things. Mother givesit to us.
What are Mega-what's-its-namesand Ptero-
18
 BEAUTIFUL AS THE DAY

what-do-you-call-thems? And does anyone

have them for breakfast? "
"Why, almost everyonehad Pterodactyl for
breakfast in my time! Pterodactyls were
something like crocodiles and something like
birds-I believe they were very good grilled.
You see,it was like this: of course there were
heapsof Sand-fairies then, and in the morning
early you went out and hunted for them, and
when you'd found one it gave you your wish.
People used to send their little boys down to
the seashorein the morning before breakfast
to get the day's wishes,and very often the eld-
estboy in the family would be told to wish for
a Megatherium, ready jointed for cooking. It
was as big as an elephant,you see,so therewas
a good deal of meat on it. And if they wanted
fish, the Ichthyosaurus was askedfor,-he was
twenty to forty feet long, so there was plenty
of him. And for poultry there was the Plesi-
osaurus; there were nice pickings on that too.
Then the other children could wish for other
things. But when people had dinner-parties
it was nearly always Megatheriums; and
19
 FIVE CHILDREN AND IT

Ichthyosaurus,because his fins were a great

delicacyand his tail madesoup."
" There must have been heaps and heapsof
cold meatleft over," said Anthea, who meant
to bea goodhousekeeper
someday.
" Oh no," said the Psammead," that would
never have done. Why, of course at sunset
what was left over turned into stone. You
find the stonebonesof the Megatherium and
things all over the place even now, they tell
me."

" Who tell you? " askedCyril; but the Sand-

fairy frowned and beganto dig very fast with
its furry hands.
" Oh, don't go!" they all cried; " tell usmore
aboutwhen it was Megatheriums for break-
fast! Was the world like this then? "
It stoppeddigging.
"Not a bit," it said; "it was nearlyall sand
whereI lived,andcoalgrewon trees,andthe
periwinkleswereasbig astea-trays-youfind
themnow; they'returned into stone.We Sand-
fairiesusedto live on the seashore,and the
children used to come with their little flint-
20
 BEAUTIFUL AS THE DAY

spadesand flint-pails and make castlesfor us

to live in. That's thousandsof years ago, but
I hear that children still build castles on the

sand. It's difficult to break yourself of a

habit."

" But why did you stop living in the castles? "
asked Robert.

" It's a sad story," said the Psammead

gloomily. " It was becausethey would build
moatsto the castles,and the nastywet bubbling
sea used to come in, and of course as soon as a
Sand-fairy got wet it caught cold, and gener-
ally died. And so there got to be fewer and
fewer, and, whenever you found a fairy and
had a wish, you used to wish for a Megathe-
rium, and eat twice as much as you wanted,
becauseit might be weeks before you got
another wish."

"And did you get wet?" Robert inquired.

The Sand-fairy shuddered. " Only once," it
said; " the end of the twelfth hair of my top
left whisker-I feel the place still in damp
weather. It was only once, but it was quite
enough for me. I went away as soon as the
21
 FIVE CHILDREN AND IT

sunhad dried my poor dear whisker. I scur-

ried awayto the back of the beach,and dug
myselfa housedeepin warm dry sand,and
there I've been ever since. And the sea
changed its lodgings afterwards. And now
I'm not going to tell you anotherthing."
"Just one more, please," said the children.
"Can you give wishes now?"
"Of course," said it; "didn't I give you
yours a few minutes ago? You said, 'I wish
you'd come out,' and I did."
"Oh, please,mayn't we have another?"
"Yes, but be quick about it. I'm tired of
you."
I daresayyou Have often thought what you
would do if you had three wishes given you,
and have despisedthe old man and his wife
in the black-pudding story, and felt certain
that if you had the chance you could think
of three really useful wishes without a mo-
ment's hesitation. These children had often

talked this matterover, but, now the chance

had suddenlycometo them, they could not
make up their minds.
22
 BEAUTIFUL AS THE DAY

" Quick," said the Sand-fairy crossly. No

one could think of anything, only Anthea
did manageto remember a private wish of her
own and Jane's which they had never told the
boys. She knew the boys would not care
about it-but still it was better than nothing.
" I wish we were all as beautiful asthe day,"
she said in a great hurry.
The children looked at each other, but each
could see that the others were not any better-
looking than usual. The Psammead pushed
out his long eyes,and seemedto be holding
its breath and swelling itself out till it was
twice as fat and furry as before. Suddenly it
let its breath go in a long sigh.
" I'm really afraid I can't manage it," it
said apologetically; "I must be out of prac-
tice."

The children were horribly disappointed.

" Oh, do try again!" they said.
"Well," said the Sand-fairy, " the fact is, I
was keeping back a little strength to give the
rest of you your wishes with. If you'll be
contentedwith one wish a day among the lot
23
 FIVE CHILDREN AND IT

of you I daresayI can screwmyselfup to it.

Do youagreeto that?"
"Yes, oh yesI" said Jane and Anthea. The
boysnodded. They did not believe the Sand-
fairy could do it. You can always make
girls believe things much easier than you can
boys.
It stretched out its eyes farther than ever,
and swelled and swelled and swelled.

" I do hope it won't hurt itself," said

Anthea.

" Or crack its skin," Robert said anxiously.

Everyone was very much relieved when the
Sand-fairy, after getting so big that it almost
filled up the hole in the sand,suddenlylet out
its breath and went back to its proper size.
"That's all right," it said, panting heavily.
" It'll come easier to-morrow."
"Did it hurt much?" said Anthea.
"Only my poor whisker, thank you," said
he, " but you're a kind and thoughtfulchild.
Good day."
It scratchedsuddenlyand fiercelywith its
handsand feet, and disappearedin the sand.
24
 BEAUTIFUL AS THE DAY

Then the children looked at each other, and

each child suddenly found itself alone with
three perfect strangers,all radiantly beautiful.
They stood for some moments in silence.
Each thought that its brothers and sistershad
wandered off, and that thesestrange children
had stolen up unnoticed while it was watching
the swelling form of the Sand-fairy. Anthea
spoke first-
" Excuseme," she said very politely to Jane,
who now had enormousblue eyesand a cloud
of russet hair, " but have you seen two little
boysand a little girl anywhere about? "
" I wasjust going to ask you that," said Jane.
And then Cyril cried-"
"Why, it's you! I know the hole in your
pinafore! You are Jane, aren't you? And
you're the Panther; I can see your dirty
handkerchief that you forgot to change after
you'd cut your thumb! The wish hascome off,
after all. I say, am I as handsome as you
are?"

" If you're Cyril, I liked you much better as

you were before," said Anthea decidedly.
25
 FIVE CHILDREN AND IT

" You look like the picture of the young chor-

ister,with your goldenhair; you'll dieyoung,
I shouldn'twonder. And if that's Robert,he's
like an Italian organ-grinder. His hair's all
black."
"You two girls are like Christmascards,
then-that's all-silly Christmas cards," said
Robertangrily. "And Jane'shair is simply
carrots."
It was indeed of that Venetian tint so much
admired by artists.
"Well, it's no use finding fault with each
other," said Anthea; "let's get the Lamb and
lug it home to dinner. The servants will ad-
mire us most awfully, you'll see."
Baby was just waking up when they got to
him, and not one of the children but was re-
lieved to find that he at least was not as
beautiful as the day, but just the same as
usual.

" I supposehe's too young to have wishes

naturally," said Jane. "We shall have to
mention him specially next time."
Anthea ran forward and held out her arms.
26
 BEAUTIFUL AS THE DAY

" Come, then," she said.

The Baby looked at her disapprovingly, and
put a sandy pink thumb in his mouth. Anthea
was his favourite sister.
" Come, then," she said.
"G'way 'long!" said the Baby.
" Come to own Pussy," said Jane.
"Wants my Panty," said the Lamb dismally,
and his lip trembled.
" Here, come on, Veteran," said Robert,
"
come and have a yidey on Yobby's back."
"Yah, narky narky boy," howled the Baby,
giving way altogether. Then the children
knew the worst. The Baby did not know
them!

They looked at each other in despair, and it

was terrible to each, in this dire emergency,
to meet only the beautiful eyes of perfect
strangers,insteadof the merry, friendly, com-
monplace,twinkling, jolly little eyesof its own
brothers and sisters.
" This is mosttruly awful," said Cyril when
he had tried to lift up the Lamb, and the
Lamb had scratched like a cat and bellowed
27
 FIVE CHILDREN AND IT

like a bull! " We've got to make friends with

him! I can'tcarry him homescreaming
like
that. Fancy having to make friends with our
ownbaby!-it's too silly."
That, however, was exactly what they had
to do. It took over an hour, and the task was
not rendered any easier by the fact that the
Lamb was by this time as hungry as a lion
and as thirsty as a desert.
At last he consentedto allow thesestrangers
to carry him home by turns, but as he refused
to hold on to such new acquaintances he was
a dead weight, and most exhausting.
"Thank goodness,we're home!" said Jane,
staggering through the iron gate to where
Martha, the nursemaid, stood at the front
door shading her eyes with her hand and
looking out anxiously. "Here! Do take
Baby!"
Martha snatchedthe Baby from her arms.
" Thanks be, he's safe back," she said.
" Wherearethe others,andwhoeverto good-
nessgraciousare all of you? "
"We're us,of course,"said Robert.
28
The baby did not know them!
 BEAUTIFUL AS THE DAY

"And who's Us, when you're at home?"

asked Martha scornfully.
" I tell you it's us, only we're beautiful as the
day," said Cyril. " I'm Cyril, and these are
the others, and we're jolly hungry. Let us in,
and don't be a silly idiot."
Martha merely dratted Cyril's impudence
and tried to shut the door in his face.
" I know we look different, but I'm Anthea,
and we're so tired, and it's long past dinner-
time."

"Then go home to your dinners, whoever

you are; and if our children put you up to
this play-acting you can tell them from me
they'll catch it, so they know what to expect!"
With that she did bang the door. Cyril rang
the bell violently. No answer. Presently
cook put her head out of a bedroom window
and said-

" If you don't take yourselvesoff, and that

precioussharp, I'll go and fetch the police."
And she slammed down the window.

" It's no good," said Anthea. " Oh, do, do

come away before we get sent to prison!"
29
 FIVE CHILDREN AND IT

The boys said it was nonsense,and the law

of Englandcouldn'tputyouin prisonforjust
being as beautiful as the day, but all the
same they followed the others out into the
lane.

" We shall be our properselvesaftersunset,

I suppose,"said Jane.
" I don't know," Cyril saidsadly;" it mayn't
be like that now-things have changeda good
deal since Megatherium times."
" Oh," cried Anthea suddenly, " perhapswe
shall turn into stone at sunset,like the Meg-
atheriums did, so that there mayn't be anyof
us left over for the next day."
She began to cry, so did Jane. Even the
boys turned pale. No one had the heart to
say anything.
It was a horrible afternoon. There was no
house near where the children could beg a
crust of bread or even a glassof water. They
were afraid to go to the village, becausethey
had seenMartha go down there with a basket,
and there was a local constable. True, they
were all as beautiful as the day, but that is a
3°
 BEAUTIFUL AS THE DAY

poor comfort when you are as hungry as a

hunter and as thirsty as a sponge.
Three times they tried in vain to get the ser-
vants in the White House to let them in and
listen to their tale. And then Robert went
alone, hoping to be able to climb in at one of
the back windows and so open the door to the
others. But all the windows were out of
reach,and Martha emptied a toilet-jug of cold
water over him from a top window, and said--"
" Go along with you, you nasty little Eye-
talian monkey."
It came at last to their sitting down in a row
under the hedge,with their feet in a dry ditch,
waiting for sunset, and wondering whether,
when the sun did set, they would turn into
stone,or only into their own old natural selves;
and each of them still felt lonely and among
strangers,and tried not to look at the others,
for, though their voices were their own, their
faceswere so radiantly beautiful asto be quite
irritating to look at.
" I don't believe we shall turn to stone," said
Robert, breaking a long miserable silence,
31
 FIVE CHILDREN AND IT

"becausethe Sand-fairy said he'd give us an-

other wish to-morrow, and he couldn't if we
were stone,could he?"
The others said "No," but they weren'tat
all comforted.
Anothersilence,longer and moremiserable,
was broken by Cyril's suddenly saying, "I
don't want to frighten you girls, but I believe
it's beginning with me already. My foot's
quite dead. I'm turning to stone, I know I
am, and sowill you in a minute."
" Never mind," said Robert kindly, " perhaps
you'll be the only stoneone, and the rest of us
will be all right, and we'll cherish your statue
and hang garlands on it."
But when it turned out that Cyril's foot had
only gone to sleepthrough his sitting too long
with it under him, and when it came to life in
an agony of pins and needles,the otherswere
quite cross.
"Giving us sucha fright for nothing!" said
Anthea.

The third and miserablest silence of all was

broken by Jane. She said-"
32
Martha emptieda toilet-jug of cold
water over him
 BEAUTIFUL AS THE DAY

" If we do come out of this all right, we'll

ask the Sammyadd to make it so that the ser-
vants don't notice anything different, no mat-
ter what wishes we have."
The others only grunted. They were too
wretched even to make good resolutions.
At last hunger and fright and crossnessand
tiredness-four very nasty things-all joined
together to bring one nice thing, and that was
sleep. The children lay asleepin a row, with
their beautiful eyes shut and their beautiful
mouths open. Anthea woke first. The sun
had set, and the twilight was coming on.
Anthea pinched herself very hard, to make
sure, and when she found she could still feel
pinching she decided that she was not stone,
and then she pinched the others. They, also,
were soft.

"Wake up," shesaid, almost in tears for joy;

"it's all right, we're not stone. And oh, Cyril,
how niceand ugly you do look, with your old
freckles and your brown hair and your little
eyes. And sodo you all!" sheadded,so that
they might not feel jealous.
33
 FIVE CHILDREN AND IT

When they got home they were very much

scoldedby Martha, who told them about the
strangechildren.
"A good-looking lot, I must say, but that
impudent."
" I know," said Robert, who knew by ex-
perience how hopelessit would be to try to
explain things to Martha.
" And where on earth have you been all this
time, you naughty little things, you?"
" In the lane."

"Why didn't you comehome hours ago?"

" We couldn't becauseof them," said Anthea.
"Who?"
" The children who were as beautiful as the
day. They kept us there till after sunset. We
couldn't come back till they'd gone. You
don't know how we hated them! Oh, do, do
give us somesupper-we are so hungry."
"Hungry! I should think so," said Martha
angrily; " out all day like this. Well, I hope
it'll be a lessonto you not to go picking up
with strange children-down here after
measles,aslikely asnot! Now mind, if you see
34
 BEAUTIFUL AS THE DAY

them again, don't you speak to them-not one

word nor so much as a look-but comestraight
away and tell me. I'll spoil their beauty for
them!"
" If ever we do seethem again we'll tell you,"
Anthea said; and Robert, fixing his eyesfondly
on the cold beef that was being brought in on
a tray by cook, addedin heartfelt undertones-
"And we'll take jolly good care we never do
seethem again."
And they never have.
 CHAPTER II

GOLDEN GUINEAS

A^THEA
woke
inthe
morning
from
a
very real sort of dream, in which she
was walking in the Zoological Gar-
dens on a pouring wet day without an um-
brella. The animals seemed desperately
unhappy becauseof the rain, and were all
growling gloomily. When she awoke,both the
growling and the rain went on just the same.
The growling wasthe heavy regular breathing
of her sisterJane, who had a slight cold and
wasstill asleep. The rain fell in slow drops
on to Anthea's face from the wet corner of a
bath-towel out of which her brother Robert

was gently squeezingthe water, to wake her

up, as he now explained.
"Oh, drop it!" shesaid rathercrossly;sohe
did, for he was not a brutal brother, though
very ingeniousin apple-pie beds,booby-traps,
36
Therain fell in slowdropson to Anthea'sface
 GOLDEN GUINEAS

original methods of awakening sleeping rela-

tives, and the other little accomplishments
which make home happy.
" I had such a funny dream," Anthea began.
" So did I," said Jane, wakening suddenly
and without warning. " I dreamed we found
a' Sand-fairy in the gravel-pits, and it said it
was a Sammyadd, and we might have a new
wish every day, and "
"But that's what I dreamed," said Robert;
" I wasjust going to tell you,--and we had the
first wish directly it said so. And I dreamed
you girls were donkeys enough to ask for us
all to be beautiful as day, and we jolly well
were, and it was perfectly beastly."
" But can different people all dream the same
thing?" said Anthea, sitting up in bed, "be-
cause I dreamed all that as well as about the

Zoo and the rain; and Baby didn't know

us in my dream, and the servantsshut us out
of the house because the radiantness of our

beautywassucha completedisguise,and"
The voice of the eldest brother sounded from

acrossthe landing.
37
 FIVE CHILDREN AND IT

" Come on, Robert," it said, " you'll be late

for breakfastagain-unless you mean to shirk
yourbathasyoudid on Tuesday."
" I say,comeherea second,"Robertreplied;
" I didn't shirk it; I had it after brekker in
father's dressing-room because ours was
emptied away."
Cyril appeared in the doorway, partially
clothed.

"Look here," said Anthea, "we've all had

such an odd dream. We've all dreamed we
found a Sand-fairy."
Her voice died away before Cyril's contemp-
tuous glance.
"Dream?" he said; "you little sillies,
it's true. I tell you it all happened. That's
why I'm so keen on being down early.
We'll go up there directly after brekker, and
have anotherwish. Only we'll make up our
minds, solid, before we go, what it is we do
want, and no one must ask for anything unless
the others agree first. No more peerless
beautiesfor this child, thank you. Not if I
know it! "

38
 GOLDEN GUINEAS

The other three dressed,with their mouths

open. If all that dream about the Sand-fairy
was real, this real dressingseemedvery like a
dream,the girls thought. Jane felt that Cyril
was right, but Anthea was not sure, till after
they had seenMartha and heard her full and
plain reminders about their naughty con-
duct the day before. Then Anthea was
sure.

" Because,"said she, " servantsnever dream

anything but the things in the Dream-book,
like snakesand oystersand going to a wedding
-that means a funeral, and snakes are a false
female friend, and oystersare babies."
" Talking of babies," said Cyril, " where's the
Lamb?"

"Martha's going to take him to Rochester

to see her cousins. Mother said she might.
She'sdressing him now," said Jane, " in his
very best coat and hat. Bread-and-butter,
please."
" She seemsto like taking him too," said
Robert in a tone of wonder.
" Servantsdo like taking babies tc «eetheir
39
 FIVE CHILDREN AND IT

relations,"Cyril said; "I've noticed it before-

especiallyin their bestclothes."
" I expect they pretend they're their own
babies,and that they're not servantsat all, but
married to noble dukes of high degree,and
they say the babies are the little dukes and
duchesses,"Jane suggesteddreamily, taking
more marmalade. " I expect that's what
Martha'll sayto her cousin. She'll enjoyher-
self most frightfully."
" She won't enjoy herself most frightfully
carrying our infant duke to Rochester,"said
Robert; "not if she's anything like me-she
won't."

"Fancy walking to Rochesterwith the Lamb

on your back!" said Cyril in full agree-
ment.

" She'sgoneby the carrier's cart," said Jane.

" Let's seethem off, then we shall have donea
polite and kindly act, and we shall be quite
sure we've got rid of them for the day."
So they did.
Martha wore her Sunday dressof two shades
of purple, so tight in the chestthat it madeher
40
 GOLDEN GUINEAS

stoop, and her blue hat with the pink corn-

flowers and white ribbon. She had a yellow-
lace collar with a green bow. And the Lamb
had indeed his very best cream-colored silk
coat and hat. It was a smart party that the
carrier's cart picked up at the Cross Roads.
When its white tilt and red wheelshad slowly
vanished in a swirl of chalk-dust-
"And now for the Sammyadd!" said Cyril,
and off they went.
As they went they decided on the wish they
would ask for. Although they were all in a
great hurry they did not try to climb down
the sides of the gravel-pit, but went round by
the safe lower road, as if they had been
carts.

They had made a ring of stones round the

place where the Sand-fairy had disappeared,
so they easily found the spot. The sun was
burning and bright, and the sky was deep
blue-without a cloud. The sand was very
hot to touch.
" Oh-suppose it was only a dream, after
all," Robert said as the boys uncovered their
 FIVE CHILDREN AND IT

spadesfrom the sand-heapwhere they had

buried them and beganto dig.
" Supposeyou were a sensiblechap,"said
Cyril; "one'squiteaslikely asthe other!"
" Supposeyou kept a civil tongue in your
head," Robert snapped.
" Supposewe girls take a turn," said Jane,
laughing. "You boys seemto be getting very
warm."
" Supposeyou don't come putting your silly
oar in," said Robert, who was now warm
indeed.

" We won't," said Anthea quickly. " Robert

dear, don't be so grumpy-we won't say a
word, you shall be the one to speakto theFairy
and tell him what we've decided to wish for.
You'll sayit much better than we shall."
" Supposeyou drop being a little humbug,"
said Robert, but not crossly. " Look out-
dig with your hands,now!"
So they did, and presently uncovered the
spider-shapedbrown hairy body, long arms
andlegs,bat'searsandsnail'seyesof theSand-
fairy himself. Everyonedrew a deepbreath
42
 GOLDEN GUINEAS

of satisfaction, for now of course it couldn't

have been a dream.
The Psammead sat up and shook the sand
out of its fur.

"How's your left whisker this morning?"

said Anthea politely.
" Nothing to boastof," said it; " it had rather
a restless night. But thank you for ask-
ing."
" I say," said Robert, " do you feel up to
giving wishes to-day, becausewe very much
want an extra besidesthe regular one? The
extra's a very little one," he added reassur-
ingly.
"Humph!" said the Sand-fairy. (If you
read this story aloud, please pronounce
" humph " exactly as it is spelt, for that is how
he said it.) " Humph! Do you know, until
I heard you being disagreeableto each other
just over my head, and so loud too, I really
quite thought I had dreamed you all. I do
have very odd dreams sometimes."
" Do you?" Janehurried to say,so asto get
awayfrom the subjectof disagreeableness.
"I
43
 FIVE CHILDREN AND IT

wish,"sheaddedpolitely," you'dtell usabout

your dreams-theymustbe awfully interest-
ing "-
" Is that the day'swish? " said the Sand-fairy,
yawning.
Cyril muttered something about " just like a
girl," and the reststoodsilent. If theysaid
"Yes," then good-byeto the other wishesthey
had decidedto ask for. If they said " No," it
would be very rude, and they had all been
taught manners,and had learned a little too,
which is not at all the samething. A sigh of
relief broke from all lips when the Sand-fairy
said-"

" If I do, I shan't have strength to give you

a secondwish; not evengood tempers,or com-
mon-sense,or manners, or little things like
that."

" We don't want you to put yourselfout at

all about thesethings, we can managethem
quite well ourselves," said Cyril eagerly;
while the otherslookedguiltily at eachother,
and wishedthe Fairy would not keepall on
aboutgoodtempers,but give them onegood
44
 GOLDEN GUINEAS

scolding^if it wanted to, and then have done

with it.

"Well," said the Psammead,putting out his

long snail's eyesso suddenly that one of them
nearly went into the round boy'seyeof Robert,
" let's have the little wish first."
"We don't want the servants to notice the
gifts you give us."
"Are kind enough to give us," said Anthea
in a whisper.
"Are kind enough to give us, I mean," said
Robert.

The Fairy swelled himself out a bit, let his

breath go, and said-
" I've done that for you-it was quite easy.
People don't notice things much, anyway.
What's the next wish?"
"We want," said Robert slowly, "to be rich
beyondthe dreamsof something or other."
"Avarice," said Jane.
" So it is," said the Fairy unexpectedly. " But
it won't do you much good, that's one com-
fort," it muttered to itself. " Come-I can't
go beyonddreams,you know! How much do
45
 FIVE CHILDREN AND IT

you want, and will you haveit in gold or

notes?"
" Gold, please-and millions of it"-
"This gravel-pit full be enough?" said the
Fairy in an off-hand manner.
" Oh yes"-
"Then go out before I begin, or you'll be
buried alive in it."
It made its skinny arms so long, and waved
them so frighteningly, that the children ran
as hard as they could towards the road by
which carts used to come to the gravel-pits.
Only Anthea had presenceof mind enoughto
shout a timid " Good-morning, I hope your
whisker will be better to-morrow," as she
ran.

On the road they turned and looked back,

and they had to shut their eyes, and open
them very slowly, a little bit at a time, because
the sight was too dazzling for their eyesto be
able to bear. It was something like trying
to look at the sun at high noon on Midsummer
Day. For the whole of the sand-pit was full,
right up to theverytop,with newshininggold
46
 GOLDEN GUINEAS

pieces, and all the little bank-martins' little

front doorswere covered out of sight. Where
the road for carts wound into the gravel-pit
the gold lay in heapslike stoneslie by the road-
side, and a great bank of shining gold shelved
down from where it lay flat and smooth be-
tween the tall sidesof the gravel-pit. And all
the gleaming heapswas minted gold. And on
the sidesand edgesof thesecountlesscoins the
mid-day sun shone and sparkled, and glowed
and gleamed till the quarry looked like the
mouth of a smelting furnace, or one of the
fairy halls that you see sometimesin the sky
at sunset.

The children stood with their mouths open,

and no one said a word.

At last Robert stooped and picked up one of

the loosecoins from the edge of the heap by
the cart-road, and looked at it. He looked on
both sides. Then he said in a low voice, quite
different to his own, " It's not sovereigns."
"It's gold, anyway," said Cyril. And now
they all beganto talk at once. They all picked
up the golden treasure by handfuls and let it
47
 FIVE CHILDREN AND IT

run through their fingers like water, and the

chink it made as it fell was wonderful music.
At first theyquite forgot to think of spending
the money,it was so nice to play with. Jane
sat down betweentwo heapsof the gold, and
Robert began to bury her, as you bury your
father in sand when you are at the seasideand
he has gone to sleep on the beach with his
newspaperover his face. But Jane was not
half buried before shecried out," Oh stop,it's
too heavy! It hurts!"
Robert said "Bosh!" and went on.
" Let me out, I tell you," cried Jane, and was
taken out, very white, and trembling a little.
"You've no idea what it's like," said she;
" it's like stoneson you-or like chains."
" Look here," Cyril said, " if this is to do us
any good, it's no good our staying gaspingat
it like this. Let's fill our pocketsand go and
buy things. Don't you forget, it won't last
after sunset. I wish we'd asked the Sammyadd
why things don't-turn to stone. Perhapsthis
will. I'll tell you what, there'sa pony and
cart in the village."
 GOLDEN GUINEAS

" Do you want to buy that? " askedJane.

"No, silly,-we'll hire it. And then we'll
go to Rochester and buy heaps and heaps of
things. Look here, let's each take as much
as we can carry. But it's not sovereigns.
They've got a man's head on one side and a
thing like the aceof spadeson the other. Fill
your pockets with it, I tell you, and come
along. You can talk as we go-if you must
talk."

Cyril sat down and began to fill his pockets.

"You made fun of me for getting- father to
have nine pockets in my suit," said he, " but
now you see!"
They did. For when Cyril had filled his
nine pockets and his handkerchief and the
spacebetweenhimself and his shirt frontwith
the gold coins, he had to stand up. But he
staggered, and had to sit down again in a
hurry.
" Throw out someof the cargo," said Robert.
" You'll sink the ship,old chap. That comes
of nine pockets."
And Cyril had to do so.
49
 FIVE CHILDREN AND IT

Then they set off to walk to the village. It

wasmorethan a mile, and the roadwasvery
dusty indeed,and the sunseemedto get hotter
and hotter, and the gold in their pocketsgot
heavier and heavier.
It wasJanewhosaid," I don't seehowwe're
to spend it all. There must be thousandsof
pounds among the lot of us. I'm going to
leave someof mine behind this stump in the
hedge. And directly we get to the village
we'll buy somebiscuits; I know it's long past
dinner-time." She took out a handful or two
of gold and hid it in the hollows of an old
hornbeam. " How round and yellow they
are," she said. " Don't you wish they were
madeof gingerbreadand we were going to eat
them?"

" Well, they'renot, and we're not," said Cyril.

"Come on!"

But they cameon heavily and wearily. Be-

fore they reached the village, more than one
stump in the hedgeconcealedits little hoard of
hidden treasure. Yet they reachedthevillage
with about twelve hundred guineas in their
SO
He staggered,and had to sit downagain
in a hurry
 GOLDEN GUINEAS

pockets. But in spite of this insidewealth

they looked quite ordinary outside, and no one
would have thought they could have more than
a half-crown each at the outside. The haze
of heat, the blue of the wood smoke, made a
sort of dim misty cloud over the red roofs of
the village. The four sat down heavily on the
first bench to which they came. It happened
to be outside the Blue Boar Inn.

It was decided that Cyril should go into the

Blue Boar and ask for ginger-beer,because,as
Anthea said, " It was not wrong for men to
go into beer-saloons,only for children. And
Cyril is nearer being a man than us, because
he is the eldest." So he went. The others
sat in the sun and waited.
" Oh, how hot it is!" said Robert. " Dogs
put their tongues out when they're hot; I
wonder if it would cool us at all to put out
ours?"

"We might try," Janesaid; and theyall put

their tonguesout as far as ever they could go,
so that it quite stretched their throats, but it
only seemed to make them thirstier than ever,
 FIVE CHILDREN AND IT

besidesannoying everyonewho went by. So

they took their tonguesin again, just as Cyril
cameback with ginger-beer.
" I had to pay for it out of my own money,
though, that I wasgoing to buy rabbits with,"
he said. "They wouldn't change the gold.
And when I pulled out a handful the man just
laughedand said it wascard-counters. And I
got somesponge-cakes too, out of a glassjar on
the bar-counter. And some biscuits with
carawaysin."
The sponge-cakeswere both soft and dry
and the biscuits were dry too, and yet soft,
which biscuitsought not to be. But the ginger-
beer made up for everything.
" It's my turn now to try to buy something
with the money," Anthea said; "I'm next
eldest. Where is the pony-cart kept?"
It was at The Chequers, and Anthea went
in the back way to the yard, becausethey all
knew that little girls ought not to go into the
bars of beer-saloons. She came out, as she
herself said, " pleasedbut not proud."
" He'll be readyin a braceof shakes,he says,"
52
 GOLDEN GUINEAS

sheremarked," andhe'sto haveonesovereign

-or whatever it is-to drive us into Rochester

and back, besideswaiting there till we've got

everything we want. I think I managedvery
well."

" You think yourself jolly clever, I daresay,"

said Cyril moodily. "How did you do it?"
" I wasn't jolly clever enough to go taking
handfuls of money out of my pocket, to make
it seemcheap, anyway," she retorted. " I just
found a young man doing something to a
horse'slegs with a sponge and a pail. And
I held out one sovereign, and I said-' Do you
know what this is?' He said 'No,' and he'd
call his father. And the old man came, and he
said it was a spade guinea; and he said was it
my own to do asI liked with, and I said ' Yes';
and I askedabout the pony-cart, and I said he
could have the guinea if he'd drive us into
Rochester. And his name is S. Crispin. And
he said,' Right oh.'"
It was a new sensation to be driven in a smart
pony-trap along pretty country roads; it was
verypleasanttoo (which is not alwaysthecase
S3
 FIVE CHILDREN AND IT

with new sensations), quite apart from the

beautiful plans of spending the money which
eachchild madeasthey went along,silently of
courseand quite to itself, for they felt it would
never have done to let the old innkeeperhear
them talk in the affluent sort of way in which
they were thinking. The old man put them
down by the bridge at their request.
" If you were going to buy a carriage and
horses,where would you go?" asked Cyril,
asif he were only askingfor the sakeof some-
thing to say.
" Billy Peasemarsh,at the Saracen'sHead,"
said the old man promptly. " Though all
forbid I should recommendanyman whereit's
a questionof horses,no more than I'd take
anybodyelse'srecommendingif I was a-buy-
ing one. But if your pa's thinking of a rig of
any sort, there ain't a straighter man in Roch-
ester, nor civiller spoken,than Billy, though
I says it."
"Thank you," said Cyril. "The Saracen's
Head."

And now the children beganto seeoneof

54
 GOLDEN GUINEAS

the laws of nature turn upside down and stand

on its head like an acrobat. Any grown-up
personwould tell you that moneyis hard to get
and easyto spend. But the fairy money had
beeneasyto get, and spending it was not only
hard, it was almost impossible. The trades-
people of Rochester seemed to shrink, to a
trades-person,from the glittering fairy gold
("furrin money" they called it, for the most
part).
To begin with, Anthea, who had had the mis-
fortune to sit on her hat earlier in the day,
wished to buy another. She chose a very
beautiful one, trimmed with pink roses and
the blue breastsof peacocks. It was marked
in the window, " Paris Model, three guineas."
" I'm glad," she said, " because it says
guineas,and not sovereigns,which we haven't
got."
But when shetook three of the spadeguineas
in her hand, which was by this time rather
dirty owing to her not having put on gloves
beforegoing to the gravel-pit, the black-silk
youngladyin theshoplookedveryhardat her,
55
 FIVE CHILDREN AND IT

and went and whispered somethingto an older

and uglier lady, also in black silk, and then
they gave her back the money and said it was
not current coin.

" It's good money," said Anthea, " and it's

my own."
"I daresay,"said the lady, "but it's not the
kind of moneythat's fashionablenow, and we
don't care abouttaking it."
" I believe they think we've stolen it," said
Anthea, rejoining the others in the street; "if
we had glovesthey wouldn't think we were so
dishonest. It's my hands being so dirty fills
their minds with doubts."

So they chose a humble shop, and the girls

bought cotton gloves, the kind at a shilling,
but when they offered a guinea the woman
looked at it through her spectacles and
saidshehad no change; sothe gloveshad to be
paid for out of Cyril's money with which he
meant to buy rabbits and so had the green
imitation crocodile-skin purse at nine-pence
which had been bought at the same time.
Theytried severalmoreshops,thekindswhere
56
 GOLDEN GUINEAS

you buy toys and perfume and silk handker-

chiefsandbooks,andfancyboxesof stationery,
and photographs of objects of interest in the
vicinity. But nobody cared to change a
guineathat day in Rochester,and as they went
fromshopto shopthey got dirtier and dirtier,
and their hair got more and more untidy, and
Jane slipped and fell down on a part of the
roadwhere a water cart had just goneby. Also
they got very hungry, but they found no one
would give them anything to eat for their
guineas.
After trying two baker shops in vain,
they became so hungry, perhaps from the
smell of the cake in the shops, as Cyril sug-
gested,that they formed a plan of campaign
in whispers and carried it out in desperation.
They marched into a third baker shop,-Beale
washis name,-and before the people behind
the counter could interfere each child had

seized three new penny buns, clapped the

three together between its dirty hands, and
taken a big bite out of the triple sandwich.
Thentheystoodat bay,with the twelvebuns
57
 FIVE CHILDREN AND IT

in their hands and their mouths very full in-

deed. The shocked baker's man bounded
round the corner.

" Here," said Cyril, speakingas distinctly as

he could, and holding out the guinea he got
ready before entering the shops, " pay your-
self out of that."
Mr. Bealesnatchedthe coin, bit it, and put it
in his pocket.
" Off you go," he said, brief and stern like
the man in the song.
"But the change?" said Anthea, who had a
saving mind.
"Change!" said the man, "I'll changeyou!
Hout you goes; and you may think yourselves
lucky I don't send for the police to find out
where you got it!"
In the Gardens of the Castle the millionaires
finished the buns, and though the curranty
softnessof thesewere delicious, and actedlike
a charm in raising the spirits of the party, yet
even the stoutestheart quailed at the thought
of venturing to soundMr. Billy Peasemarsh at
the Saracen'sHead on the subject of a horse
58
Mr. Beale
snatched
thecoin,bit it, andput
it in his pocket
 GOLDEN GUINEAS

andcarriage. The boys'wouldhavegivenup

the idea, but Jane was always a hopeful child,
and Anthea generally an obstinate one, and
their earnestnessprevailed.
The whole party, by this time indescribably
dirty, therefore betook itself to the Saracen's
Head. The yard-method of attack having
been successful at The Chequers, was tried
againhere. Mr. Peasemarshwas in the yard,
and Robert opened the business in these
terms-"

"They tell me you have a lofof horsesand

carriages to sell." It had been agreed that
Robert should be spokesman,becausein books
it is always gentlemenwho buy horses,and not
ladies, and Cyril had had his go at the Blue
Boar.

" They tell you true, young man," said Mr.

Peasemarsh. He was a long lean man, with
very blue eyes and a tight mouth and narrow
lips.
"We should like to buy some, please," said
Robert politely.
" I daresayyou would."
59
 FIVE CHILDREN AND IT

"Will you showus a few, please? To choose

from."

"Who are you a-kiddin of?" inquired Mr.

Billy Peasemarch. "Was you senthere of a
message?"
" I tell you," said Robert, " we want to buy
some horses and carriages, and a man told us
you were straight and civil spoken, but I
shouldn't wonder if he was mistaken "-"
"Upon my sacred!" said Mr. Peasemarsh.
" Shall I trot the whole stable out for your
Honor's worship to see? Or shall I send
round to the Bishop'sto seeif he's a nag or two
to dispose of?"
" Please do," said Robert, " if it's not too
much trouble. It would be very kind of
you."
Mr. Peasemarshput his hands in his pockets
and laughed, and they did not like the way he
did it. Then he shouted "Willum!"
A stoopingostler appearedin a stable door.
" Here, Willum, come and look at this 'ere
young dook! Wants to buy the whole stud,
lock, stock,and bar'l. And ain't got tuppence
60
 GOLDEN GUINEAS

in his pocket to blesshisself with, I'll go

bail!"

Willum's eyesfollowed his master'spointing

thumb with contemptuous interest.
"Do 'e, for sure?" he said.
But Robert spoke, though both the girls were
now pulling at his jacket and begging him to
"come along." He spoke, and he was very
angry; he said-
" I'm not a young duke, and I never pre-
tendedto be. And as for tuppence-what do
you call this?" And before the others could
stophim he had pulled out two fat handfu'lsof
shining guineas, and held them out for Mr.
Peasemarsh to look at. He did look. He

snatchedone up in his finger and thumb. He

bit it, and Jane expected him to say," The best
horsein my stables is at your service." But
the others knew better. Still it was a blow,
even to the most desponding, when he said
shortly-
" Willum, shut the yard doors;" and Willum
grinned and went to shut them.
" Good-afternoon,"
saidRoberthastily; " we
61
 FIVE CHILDREN AND IT

shan't buy any horsesnow, whatever you say,

and I hope it'll be a lessonto you." He had
seena little side gate open, and was moving
towardsit ashe spoke. But Billy Peasemarsh
put himself in the way.
"Not so fast, you young off-scouring!" he
said. " Willum, fetch the pleece."
Willum went. The children stood huddled
together like frightened sheep, and Mr. Pease-
marsh spoke to them till the pleece arrived.
He said many things. Among other things he
said-

" Nice lot you are, aren't you, coming tempt-

ing honestmen with your guineas!"
"They are our guineas," said Cyril boldly.
" Oh, of coursewe don't know all about that,
no more we don't-oh no-course not! And
dragging little gells into it, too. 'Ere-I'll
let the gells go if you'll come along to the
pleece quiet."
"We won't be let go," said Janeheroically;
" not withouttheboys. It's our moneyjustas
much as theirs, you wicked old man."
"Where'd you get it, then?" said the man,
62
 GOLDEN GUINEAS

softening slightly, which was not at all what

the boys expected when Jane began to call
names.

Jane cast a silent glance of agony at the

others.

"Lost your tongue, eh? Got it fast enough

when it's for calling nameswith. Come,speak
up! Where'd you get it? "
"Out of the gravel-pit," said truthful Jane.
"Next article," said the man.
" I tell you we did," Jane said. "There's a
fairy there-all over brown fur-with ears
like a bat's and eyes like a snail's, and he
gives you a wish a day, and they all come
true."

"Touched in the head, eh?" said the man in

a low voice; " all the more shameto you boys
dragging the poor afflicted child into your sin-
ful burglaries."
"She's not mad; it's true," said Anthea;
" thereis a fairy. If I ever seehim again I'll
wish for something for you; at least I would
if vengeancewasn't wicked-so there!"
"Lor" lumme," said Billy Peasemarsh,"if
there ain't another on 'em!"
6?
 FIVE CHILDREN AND IT

And now Willum cameback, with a spiteful

grin on his face,and at his back a policeman,
with whom Mr. Peasemarshspoke long in a
hoarse earnest whisper.
" I daresayyou're right," said the policeman
at last. " Anyway, I'll take 'em up on a charge
of unlawful possession,pending inquiries.
And the magistrate will deal with the case.
Send the afflicted ones to a home, as likely as
not, and the boys to a reformatory. Now
then, comealong,youngsters! No usemaking
a fuss. You bring the gells along, Mr. Pease-
marsh,sir, and I'll shepherdthe boys."
Speechlesswith rage and horror, the four
children were driven along the streets of
Rochester. Tears of anger and shameblinded
them, so that when Robert ran right into a
passer-byhe did not recogniseher till a well-
known voice said, "Well, if ever I did! Oh,
MasterRobert,whateverhaveyou beena-do-
ing of now?" And anothervoice, quite as
well known, said, "Panty; want go own
Panty!"
They had run into Martha andthe Baby!
64
They had run into Martha and the baby
 GOLDEN GUINEAS

Martha behavedadmirably. She refused to

believe a word of the policeman's story, or of
Mr. Peasemarsh's either, evenwhen they made
Robert turn out his pocketsin an archway and
show the guineas.
" I don't seenothing," she said. " You've
goneout of your senses, you two! There ain't
any gold there-only the poor child's hands,
all over dirt, and like the very chimbley. Oh
that I should ever see the day!"
And the children thought this very noble of
Martha, even if rather wicked, till they re-
memberedhow the Fairy had promised that
the servants should never notice any of the
fairy gifts. So of course Martha couldn't see
the gold, and so was only speaking the truth,
and that was quite right, of course, but not
extra noble.

It was getting dusk when they reached the

police-station. The policeman told his tale to
an inspector,who sat in a large bare room with
a thing like a clumsy nursery-fenderat oneend
to put prisonersin. Robert wondered whether
it was a cell or a dock.

65
 FIVE CHILDREN AND IT

"Produce the coins, officer," said the in-

spector.
" Turn out your pockets,"said the constable.
Cyril desperatelyplunged his hands in his
pockets,stood still a moment,and then began
to laugh-an odd sort of laugh that hurt, and
that felt much more like crying. His pockets
were empty. So were the pockets of the
others. For of course at sunsetall the fairy
gold had vanishedaway.
" Turn out your pockets,and stop that noise,"
said the inspector.
Cyril turned out his pockets,every one of the
nine which enriched his suit. And every
pocket was empty.
"Well!" said the inspector.
" I don't know how they done it-artful little
beggars! They walked in front of methe 'ole
way, so as for me to keep my eye on them
and not to attract a crowd and obstruct the
traffic."

" It's very remarkable," said the inspector,

frowning.
" If you've done a-browbeating of the inno-
66
He said, " Now then! " to the policeman
and Mr. Peasemarsh
 GOLDEN GUINEAS

cent children," said Martha, " I'll hire a pri-

vate carriage and we'll drive home to their
papa'smansion. You'll hear about this again,
young man!-I told you they hadn't got any
gold, when you were pretending to see it in
their poor helplesshands. It's early in the day
for a constable on duty not to be able to trust
his own eyes. As to the other one, the less
said the better; he keeps the Saracen'sHead,
and he knows bestwhat his liquor's like."
" Take them away, for goodness'sake," said
the inspector crossly. But as they left the
police-station he said, "Now then!" to the
policeman and Mr. Peasemarsh,and he said it
twenty times as crossly as he had spoken to
Martha.
" * " " "

Martha was as good as her word. She took

them home in a very grand carriage, because
the carrier's cart was gone, and, though she
had stood by them so nobly with the police,
she was so angry with them as soon as they
were alone for " trapesing into Rochester by
themselves,"that none of them dared to men-
67
 FIVE CHILDREN AND IT

tion the old man with the pony-cart from the

village who was waiting for them in Roch-
ester. And so, after one day of boundless
wealth, the children found themselvessentto
bed in deep disgrace, and only enriched by
two pairs of cotton gloves,dirty inside because
of the stateof the handsthey had beenput on
to cover, an imitation crocodile-skin purse,
and twelve penny buns,long since digested.
The thing that troubled them most was the
fear that the old gentleman's guinea might
have disappeared at sunset with all the rest,
so they went down to the village next day to
apologise for not meeting him in Rochester,
and to see. They found him very friendly.
The guinea had not disappeared,and he had
bored a hole in it and hung it on his watch-
chain. As for the guinea the baker took, the
children felt they could not care whether it
had vanished or not, which was not perhaps
very honest,but on the other hand was not
wholly unnatural. But afterwards this preyed
on Anthea's mind, and at last shesecretly sent
twelvepostagestampsby postto " Mr. Beale,
68
 GOLDEN GUINEAS

Baker, Rochester." Inside she wrote, " To

pay for the buns." I hope the guinea did dis-
appear, for that baker was really not at all a
nice man, and, besides,penny buns are seven
for sixpencein all really respectableshops.

69
 CHAPTER III

BEING WANTED

THE morning
after
the
childre
had
been the possessors of boundless
wealth, and had been unable to buy
anything really useful or enjoyable with it,
except two pairs of cotton gloves, twelve penny
buns, an imitation crocodile-skin purse, and a
ride in a pony-cart, they awoke without any of
the enthusiastic happiness which they had felt
on the previous day when they remembered
how they had had the luck to find a Psam-
mead,or Sand-fairy, and to receiveits promise
to grant them a new wish every day. For now
they had had two wishes,Beauty and Wealth,
and neither had exactly made them happy.
But the happening of strange things, even if
they are not completely pleasant things, is
more amusing than thosetimes when nothing
happens but meals, and they are not always
70
 BEING WANTED

completely pleasant, especially on the days

when it is cold mutton or hash.

There was no chanceof talking things over

before breakfast, becauseeveryone overslept
itself, as it happened,and it neededa vigorous
and determined struggle to get dressedso as
to be only ten minutes late for breakfast.
During this meal some efforts were made to
deal with the question of the Psammead in
an impartial spirit, but it is very difficult to
discussanything thoroughly and at the same
time to attendfaithfully to your baby brother's
breakfast needs. The Baby was particularly
lively that morning. He not only wriggled
his body through the bar of his high chair,
and hung by his head, choking and purple,
but he seized a tablespoon with desperate
suddenness, hit Cyril heavily on the head with
it, and then cried becauseit was taken away
from him. He put his fat fist in his bread-
and-milk, and demanded" nam," which was
only allowed for tea. He sang,he put his feet
on the table-he clamoured to " go walky."

The conversationwas something like this-

 FIVE CHILDREN AND IT

" Look here-about that Sand-fairy

Look out!-he'll have the milk over."
Milk removed to a safe distance.
" Yes-about that Fairy No, Lamb
dear, give Panther the narky poon."
Then Cyril tried. " Nothing we've had yet
has turned out He nearly had the mus-
tard that time!"
" I wonder whether we'd better wish
Hullo!-you've done it now, my boy!" And
in a flash of glass and pink baby-paws, the
bowl of golden carp in the middle of the table
rolled on its side and poured a flood of mixed
water and gold-fish into the Baby's lap and
into the laps of the others.
Everyone was almost as much upset as the
gold-fish; the Lamb only remaining calm.
When the pool on the floor had beenmopped
up, and the leaping, gasping gold-fish had
been collected and put back in the water, the
Baby wastaken away to be entirely re-dressed
by Martha, and most of the others had to
changecompletely. The pinafores and jackets
that had been bathed in gold-fish-and-water
72
 BEING WANTED

were hung out to dry, and then it turned out

that Jane must either mend the dressshe had
torn the day before or appear all day in her
bestpetticoat. It was white and soft and frilly,
and trimmed with lace, and very, very pretty,
quite as pretty as a frock, if not more so. Only
it was not a frock, and Martha's word was
law. She wouldn't let Jane wear her best
frock, and she refused to listen for a moment
to Robert's suggestionthat Jane should wear
her best petticoat and call it a dress.
" It's not respectable,"she said. And when
people say that, it's no use anyone's saying
anything. You'll find this out for yourselves
some day.
So there was nothing for it but for Jane to
mend her frock. The hole had been torn the
day before when she happened to tumble down
in the High Street of Rochester,just where a
water-cart had passedon its silvery way. She
had grazed her knee, and her stocking was
much more than grazed, and her dress was
cut by the samestone which had attended to
the knee and the stocking. Of course the
73
 FIVE CHILDREN AND IT

others were not such sneaks as to abandon a

comrade in misfortune, so they all sat on the
grass-plotround the sun-dial, and Jane darned
away for dear life. The Lamb was still in
the hands of Martha having its clothes
changed,so conversationwas possible.
Anthea and Robert timidly tried to conceal
their inmost thought, which was that the
Psammeadwas not to be trusted; but Cyril
said-

" Speak out-say what you've got to say-I

hate hinting, and ' don't know,' and sneakish
wayslike that."
So then Robert said, as in honour bound,
" Sneak yourself-Anthea and me weren't so
gold-fishy asyou two were, so we got changed
quicker, and we've had time to think it over,
and if you ask me "--
" I didn't ask you," said Jane, biting off a
needleful of thread as she had always been
strictly forbidden to do. (Perhaps you don't
know that if you bite off ends of cotton and
swallow them they wind tight round your
heart and kill you? My nurse told me this,
74
 BEING WANTED

and she told me also about the earth going

round the sun. Now what is one to believe-
what with nursesand science?)
" I don't care who asksor who doesn't," said
Robert, " but Anthea and I think the Sammy-
add is a spiteful brute. If it can give us our
wishes I suppose it can give itself its own, and
I feel almost sure it wishes every time that
our wishes shan't do us any good. Let's let
the tiresomebeast alone, and just go and have
a jolly good game of forts, on our own, in the
chalk-pit."
(You will remember that the happily-situ-
ated house where these children were spend-
ing their holidays lay betweena chalk-quarry
and a gravel-pit.)
Cyril and Jane were more hopeful-they
generally were.
" I don't think the Sammyadddoesit on pur-
pose," Cyril said; " and, after all, it -wassilly
to wish for boundlesswealth. Fifty pounds
in two-shilling pieceswould have been much
more sensible. And wishing to be beautiful
as the day was simply donkeyish. I don't
75
 FIVE CHILDREN AND IT

want to be disagreeable,but it was. We must

try to find a really useful wish, and wish it."
Janedroppedherwork andsaid-
" I think so too, it's too silly to have a chance
like this and not useit. I never heard of any-
oneelseoutsidea book who had sucha chance;
theremust be simply heapsof things we could
wish for that wouldn't turn out Dead Seafish,
like thesetwo things have. Do let's think hard
and wish something nice, so that we can have
a real jolly day-what there is left of it."
Jane darned away again like mad, for time
was indeed getting on, and everyone began
to talk at once. If you had been there you
could not possibly have made head or tail of
the talk, but these children were used to talk-
ing " by fours," assoldiers march, and eachof
them could say what it had to say quite com-
fortably, and listen to the agreeablesoundof
its own voice, and at the same time have three-
quarters of two sharp ears to spare for listen-
ing to what the others said. That is an easy
example in multiplication of vulgar fractions,
but, asI daresayyou can't do eventhat, I won't
76
 BEING WANTED

ask you to tell me whether fX2 = ii, but I

will ask you to believe me that this was the
amount of ear each child was able to lend to
the others. Lending ears was common in
Roman times, as we learn from Shakespeare;
but I fear I am getting too instructive.
When the frock was darned, the start for the
gravel-pit was delayed by Martha's insisting
on everybody'swashing its hands-which was
nonsense,because nobody had been doing
anything at all, except Jane, and how can you
get dirty doing nothing? That is a difficult
question, and I cannot answer it on paper. In
real life I could very soon show you-or you
me, which is much more likely.
During the conversationin which the six ears
were lent (there were four children, so that
sum comes right), it had been decided that
fifty pounds in two-shilling pieces was the
right wish to have. And the lucky children,
who could have anything in the wide world by
just wishing for it, hurriedly started for the
gravel-pit to express their wishes to the Psam-
mead. Martha caught them at the gate,
77
 FIVE CHILDREN AND IT

and insisted on their taking the Baby with

them.

"Not want him indeed! Why, everybody

'ud want him, a duck! with all their hearts
they would; and you know you promisedyour
ma to take him out every blessed day," said
Martha.

" I know we did," said Robert in gloom," but

I wish the Lamb wasn't quite so young and
small. It would be much better fun taking
him out."

" He'll mend of his youngness with time,"

said Martha; "and as for smallness, I don't
think you'd fancy carrying of him any more,
however big he was. Besides he can walk
a bit, bless his precious fat legs, a ducky! He
feelsthe benefit of the new-laid air, so he does,
a pet!"
With this and a kiss, sheplumped the Lamb
into Anthea's arms, and went back to make
new pinafores on the sewing-machine. She
was a rapid performer on this instrument.
The Lamb laughed with pleasure,and said,
" Walky wif Panty," and rode on Robert's
78
The lucky children... hurriedl
the gravel pit
 BEING WANTED

back with yells of joy, and tried to feed Jane

with stones,and altogether made himself so
agreeable that nobody could long be sorry
that he was of the party.
The enthusiastic Jane even suggested that
they should devote a week'swishesto assuring
the Baby's future, by asking such gifts for him
as the good fairies give to Infant Princes in
proper fairy-tales, but Anthea soberly re-
minded her that as the Sand-fairy's wishes
only lasted till sunset they could not ensure
any benefit to the Baby's later years; and Jane
owned that it would be better to wish for fifty
pounds in two-shilling pieces, and buy the
Lamb a three-pound fifteen rocking-horse,
like those in the big stores,with a part of the
money.
It wassettled that, as soon asthey had wished
for the money and got it, they would get
Mr. Crispin to drive them into Rochester
again, taking Martha with them if they could
not get out of taking her. And they would
make a list of things they really wanted before
they started. Full of high hopesand excellent
79
 FIVE CHILDREN AND IT

resolutions, they went round the safe slow

cart-road to the gravel-pits, and as they went
in between the mounds of gravel a sudden
thought cameto them, and would have turned
their ruddy cheekspale if they had beenchil-
dren in a book. Being real live children, it
only made them stop and look at each other
with rather blank and silly expressions. For
now they remembered that yesterday,when
they had asked the Psammeadfor boundless
wealth, and it was getting ready to fill the
quarry, with the minted gold of bright guineas
-millions of them-it had told the children

to run along outside the quarry for fear they

should be buried alive in the heavy splendid
treasure. And they had run. And so it hap-
pened that they had not had time to mark the
spotwhere the Psammeadwas, with a ring of
stones,asbefore. And it was this thought that
put such silly expressions on their faces.
"Never mind," said the hopeful Jane, "we'll
soon find him."

But this, though easily said, was hard in the

doing. They looked and they looked, and,
80
 BEING WANTED

though they found their seasidespades,no-

where could they find the Sand-fairy.
At last they had to sit down and rest-not
at all becausethey were weary or disheartened,
of course,but becausethe Lamb insisted on
being put down, and you cannot look very
carefully after anything you may have hap-
penedto lose in the sand if you have an active
baby to look after at the same time. Get
someoneto drop your best knife in the sand
next time you go to the seashoreand then take
your baby brother with you when you go to
look for it, and you will seethat I am right.
The Lamb, as Martha had said, was feeling
the benefit of the country air, and he was as
frisky as a sandhopper. The elder ones
longed to go on talking about the new wishes
they would have when (or if) they found the
Psammeadagain. But the Lamb wished to
enjoy himself.
He watched his opportunity and threw a
handful of sand into Anthea's face, and then
suddenly burrowed his own head in the sand
and waved his fat legs in the air. Then of
81
 FIVE CHILDREN AND IT

course the sand got into his eyes, as it had into

Anthea's, and he howled.
The thoughtful Robert had brought one
solid brown bottle of ginger-beerwith him,
relying on a thirst that had never yet failed
him. This had to be uncorked hurriedly-it
was the only wet thing within reach, and it
was necessaryto wash the sand out of the
Lamb's eyessomehow. Of coursethe ginger
hurt horribly, and he howled more than ever.
And, amid his anguish of kicking, the bottle
was upset and the beautiful ginger-beer
frothed out into the sand and was lost for
ever.

It was then that Robert, usually a very

patient brother, so far forgot himself as to
say-

"Anybody would want him, indeed! Only

they don't; Martha doesn't,not really, or she'd
jolly well keep him with her. He's a little
nuisance,that's what he is. It's too bad. I
only wish everybody did want him with all
their hearts; we might get somepeacein our
lives."

82
 BEING WANTED

The Lamb stopped howling now, because

Jane had suddenly rememberedthat there is
only one safeway of taking things out of little
children's eyes,and that is with your own soft
wet tongue. It is quite easy if you love the
Baby asmuch asyou ought to do.
Then there was a little silence. Robert was
not proud of himself for having beenso cross,
and the others were not proud of him either.
You often notice that sort of silence when
someonehas said somethingit ought not to-
and everyoneelse holds its tongue and waits
for the one who oughtn't to have said it is
sorry.
The silencewas broken by a sigh-a breath
suddenly let out. The children's heads
turned as if there had been a string tied to
each nose, and somebodyhad pulled all the
strings at once.
And everyone saw the Sand-fairy sitting
quite closeto them, with the expressionwhich
it used as a smile on its hairy face.
"Good-morning," it said; " I did that quite
easily! Everyone wantshim now."
83
 FIVE CHILDREN AND IT

" It doesn'tmatter," said Robert sulkily, be-

cause he knew he had been behaving rather
like a pig. "No matter who wants him-
there's no one here to-anyhow."
" Ingratitude," said the Psammead," is a
dreadful vice."
" We're not ungrateful," Jane made hasteto
say, " but we didn't really want that wish.
Robert only just said it. Can't you take it back
and give us a new one?"
"No-I can't," the Sand-fairy said shortly;
" chopping and changing-it's not business.
You ought to be careful what you do wish.
There was a little boy once, he'd wished for a
Plesiosaurus instead of an Ichthyosaurus, be-
causehe was too lazy to remember the easy
namesof everyday things, and his father had
beenvery vexed with him, and had madehim
go to bed before tea-time, and wouldn't let
him goout in theniceflint boatalongwith the
other children,-it wasthe annual school-treat
next day,-and he came and flung himself
downnearmeonthe morningof the treat,and
he kickedhis little prehistoriclegsaboutand
 BEING WANTED

said he wished he was dead. And of course

then he was."

" How awful! said the children all together.

" Only till sunset, of course," the Psammead
said; "still it was quite enough for his father
and mother. And he caught it when he woke
up-I tell you. He didn't turn to stone-I
forget why-but there must have been some
reason. They didn't know being dead is
only being asleep,and you're bound to wake
up somewhereor other, either where you go to
sleep or in some better place. You may be
sure he caught it, giving them such a turn.
Why, he wasn't allowed to taste Megatherium
for a month after that. Nothing but oysters
and periwinkles, and commonthings like that."
All the children were quite crushed by this
terrible tale. They looked at the Psammead
in horror. Suddenly the Lamb perceivedthat
somethingbrown and furry was near him.
" Poof, poof, poofy," he said, and made a
grab.
" It's not a pussy," Anthea was beginning,
when the Sand-fairy leapedback.
85
 FIVE CHILDREN AND IT

"Oh, my left whisker!" it said; "don't let

him touch me. He's wet."
Its fur stood on end with horror-and indeed
a good deal of the ginger-beer had beenspilt
on the blue smock of the Lamb.

The Psammeaddug with its handsand feet,

and vanished in an instant and a whirl of sand.
The children marked the spot with a ring of
stones.

" We may as well get along home,"' said

Robert. "I'll say I'm sorry; but anyway if
it's no good it's no harm, and we know where
the sandy thing is for to-morrow."
The others were noble. No one reproached
Robert at all. Cyril picked up the Lamb, who
was now quite himself again, and off they
went by the safe cart-road.
The cart-road from the gravel-pits joins the
road almost directly.
At the gate into the road the party stopped
to shift the Lamb from Cyril's back to Rob-
ert's. And as they pauseda very smart open
carriagecamein sight,with a coachman
and
a groom on the box, and inside the carriage a
86
" Poof, poof, poofy," he said,an
 BEING WANTED

lady-very grand indeed, with a dress all

white lace and red ribbons and a parasol all
red and white-and a white fluffy dog on her
lap with a red ribbon round its neck. She
looked at the children, and particularly at the
Baby, and she smiled at him. The children
were usedto this, for the Lamb was, as all the
"
servants said, a very taking child." So they
waved their handspolitely to the lady and ex-
pected her to drive on. But she did not. In-
steadshe made the coachmanstop. And she
beckoned to Cyril, and when he went up to
the carriage she said-
" What a dear darling duck of a baby! Oh,
I should so like to adopt it! Do you think its
mother would mind? "

" She'd mind very much indeed," said

Anthea shortly.
" Oh, but I should bring it up in luxury, you
know. I am Lady Chittenden. You must
have seen my photograph in the illustrated
papers. They call me a Beauty,you know, but
of course that's all nonsense.Anyway"
She opened the carriage door and jumped
87
 FIVE CHILDREN AND IT

out'. She had the wonderfullest red high-

heeled shoes with silver buckles. " Let me
hold him a minute," she said. And she took
the Lamb and held him very awkwardly, as
if she was not used to babies.

Then suddenly shejumped into the carriage

with the Lamb in her arms and slammed the
door, and said, "Drive on!"
The Lamb roared, the little white dog
barked, and the coachman hesitated.
"Drive on, I tell you!" cried the lady; and
the coachmandid, for, as he said afterwards,
it was as much as his place was worth not to.
The four children looked at each other, and
then with one accord they rushed after the
carriage and held on behind. Down the dusty
road went the smart carriage, and after it, at
double-quick time, ran the twinkling legs of
the Lamb's brothers and sisters.
The Lamb howled louder and louder, but
presently his howls changedby slow degrees
to hiccupy gurgles, and then all was still, and
they knew he had gone to sleep.
The carriage went on, and the eight feet that
At double-quicktime, ran the twinkling legsof
the Lamb's brothers and sisters
 BEING WANTED

twinkled through the dustwere growing quite

stiff and tired before the carriage stopped at
the lodge of a grand park. The children
crouched down behind the carriage, and the
lady got out. Shelooked at the Baby asit lay
on the carriage seat,and hesitated.
" The darling-I won't disturb it," she said,
and went into the lodge to talk to the woman
there about a setting of eggs that had not
turned out well.

The coachman and footman sprang from the

box and bent over the sleeping Lamb.
" Fine boy-wish he was mine," said the
coachman.

" He wouldn't favour you much," said the

groom sourly; "too 'andsome."
The coachmanpretendednot to hear. He
said-

"Wonder at her now-I do really! Hates

kids. Got none of her own, and can't abide
other folkses'."

The children, crouchedin the white dust

underthe carriage,exchangeduncomfortable
glances.
 FIVE CHILDREN AND IT

" Tell you what," the coachman went on

firmly, " blowedif I don't hide the little nip-
per in the hedgeand tell her his brotherstook
'im! Then I'll come back for him after-
wards."
"No, you don't," said the footman. "I've
took to that kid so as never was. If anyone's
to have him, it's me-so there!"
"Stop your talk!" the coachman rejoined.
" You don't want no kids, and, if you did, one
kid's the same as another to you. But I'm a
married man and a judge of breed. I knows
a firstrate yearling when I sees him. I'm
a-goin' to 'ave him, an' least said soonest
mended."

" I should 'a' thought," said the footman

sneeringly, " you'd a'mostenough. What with
Alfred, an' Albert, an' Louise, an' Victor Stan-
ley, and Helena Beatrice, and another"-
The coachman hit the footman in the chin
-the footman hit the coachman in the waist-
coat-the next minute the two were fighting
hereand there,in andout, up and down,and
all overeverywhere,
andthe little dogjumped
90
 JiOl

The next minute the two were fighting

 BEING WANTED

on the box of the carriage and beganbarking

like mad.

Cyril, still crouching in the dust, waddled

on bent legs to the side of the carriage farthest
from the battlefield. He unfastened the door
of the carriage-the two men were far too
much occupied with their quarrel to notice
anything-took the Lamb in his arms, and,
still stooping, carried the sleeping baby a
dozen yards along the road to where a stile led
into a wood. The others followed, and there
among the hazels and young oaks and sweet
chestnuts, covered by high strong-scented
brake-fern, they all lay hidden till the angry
voices of the men were hushed at the angry
voice of the red-and-white lady, and, after a
long and anxious search, the carriage at last
drove away.
" My only hat! " said Cyril, drawing a deep
breath as the sound of wheels at last died
away. " Everyone doeswant him now-and
no mistake! That Sammyadd has done us
again! Tricky brute! For any sake,let's get
the kid safe home."
 FIVE CHILDREN AND IT

Sotheypeepedout, and finding on the right

hand only lonely white road, and nothing but
lonely white road on the left, they took cour-
age, and the road, Anthea carrying the sleep-
ing Lamb.
Adventures dogged their footsteps. A boy
with a bundle of faggots on his back dropped
his bundle by the roadside and askedto look
at the Baby, and then offered to carry him;
but Anthea was not to be caught that way
twice. They all walked on, but the boy fol-
lowed, and Cyril and Robert couldn't make
him go away till they had more than once
invited him to smell their fists. Afterwards a

little girl in a blue-and-white checked pina-

fore actually followed them for a quarter of a
mile crying for " the preciousBaby," and then
shewas only got rid of by threats of tying her
to a tree in the wood with all their pocket
handkerchiefs. " So that bears can come and
eat you as soon as it gets dark," said Cyril
severely. Then she went off crying. It
presently seemedwise, to the brothers and sis-
ters of the Baby who was wanted by everyone,
92
 BEING WANTED

to hide in the hedgewhenever they saw any-

one coming, and thus they managed to prevent
the Lamb from arousing the inconvenient
affection of a milkman, a stone-breaker, and a
man who drove a cart with a paraffin barrel
at the back of it. They were nearly home
when the worst thing of all happened. Turn-
ing a corner suddenly they came upon two
vans, a tent, and a company of gipsies en-
camped by the side of the road. The vans
were hung all round with wicker chairs and
cradles, and flower-stands and feather brushes.
A lot of ragged children were industriously
making dust-piesin the road, two men lay on
the grasssmoking, and three women were do-
ing the family washing in an old red watering-
can with the top broken off.
In a moment every gipsy, men, women, and
children, surrounded Anthea and the Baby.
" Let me hold him, little lady," said one of
the gipsy women, who had a mahogany-
coloured face and dust-coloured hair; "I
won't hurt a hair of his head, the little
picture 1"
93
 FIVE CHILDREN AND IT

" I'd rather not," said Anthea.

" Let me havehim," said the otherwoman,
whosefacewasalsoof the hue of mahogany,
and her hair jet-black, in greasycurls. " I've
nineteen of my own, so I have "-
"No," said Anthea bravely, but her heart
beat so that it nearly choked her.
Then one of the men pushed forward.
" Swelp me if it ain't!" he cried, "my own
long-lost cheild! Have he a strawberry mark
on his left ear? No? Then he's my own
babby, stolen from me in hinnocent hinfancy.
'And 'im over-and we'll not 'ave the law on
yer this time."
He snatched the Baby from Anthea, who
turned scarlet and burst into tears of pure rage.
The others were standing quite still; this
wasmuch the most terrible thing that had ever
happened to them. Even being taken up by
the police in Rochester was nothing to this.
Cyril wasquitewhite, andhis handstrembled
a little, but he madea sign to the othersto shut
up. He was silent a minute, thinking hard.
Then he said-

94
He snatched the baby from Anthea
 BEING WANTED

"We don't want to keep him if he's yours.

But you seehe's used to us. You shall have
him if you want him"-
"No, no! " cried Anthea,-and Cyril glared
at her.

" Of course we want him," said the women,

trying to get the Baby out of the man's arms.
The Lamb howled loudly.
"Oh, he's hurt!" shrieked Anthea; and
Cyril, in a savageundertone, bade her " stop
it!"

" You trust to me," he whispered. " Look

here," he went on, " he's awfully tiresome
with people he doesn'tknow very well. Sup-
posewe stay here a bit till he getsusedto you,
and then when it's bedtime I give you my
word of honour we'll go away and let you
keep him if you want to. And then when
we're gone you can decide which of you is to
have him, asyou all want him so much."
"That's fair enough," said the man who was
holding the Baby, trying to loosen the red
neckerchiefwhich the Lamb had caughthold
of and drawn round his mahogany throat so
95
 FIVE CHILDREN AND IT

tight that he could hardly breathe. The

gipsieswhispered together, and Cyril tookthe
chance to whisper too. He said, "Sunset!
we'll get away then."
And then his brothers and sisters were filled

with wonder and admiration at his having

been so clever as to remember this.

"Oh, do let him come to us!" said Jane.

" See,we'll sit down here and take careof him
for you .till he gets used to you."
" What aboutdinner? " said Robertsuddenly.
The others looked at him with scorn. " Fancy
bothering about your beastly dinner when
your br-I mean when the Baby"-Jane whis-
pered hotly. Robert carefully winked at her
and went on-

" You won't mind my just running home to

get our dinner? " he said to the gipsy; " I can
bring it out here in a basket."
His brothers and sisters felt themselves very
noble and despisedhim. They did not know
his thoughtful secret intention. But the
gipsies did in a minute.
" Oh yes! " they said; " and then fetch the
96
 BEING WANTED

police with a pack of lies about it being your

baby insteadof ours! D'jever catch a weasel
asleep?" they asked.
" If you're hungry you can pick a bit along
of us," said the light-haired gipsy-woman,not
unkindly. " Here Levi, that blessed kid'll
howl all his buttons off. Give him to the little
lady, and let's seeif they can't get him used to
us a bit."
So the Lamb was handed back; but the
gipsies crowded so closely that he could not
possibly stop howling. Then the man with
the red handkerchief said-

" Here, Pharaoh, make up the fire; and you

girls see to the pot. Give the kid a chanst."
So the gipsies,very much against their will,
went off to their work, and the children and
the Lamb were left sitting on the grass.
" He'll be all right at sunset," Jane whis-
pered. "But, oh, it is awful! Supposethey
are frightfully angry when they come to their
senses! They might beat us, or leave us tied
to trees,or something."
"No, they won't," Anthea said ("Oh, my
97
 FIVE CHILDREN AND IT

Lamb, don't cry any more, it's all right,

Panty's got oo, duckie"); "they aren't un-
kind people, or they wouldn't be going to give
us any dinner."
"Dinner?" said Robert; "I won't touch
their nasty dinner. It would choke me!"
The others thought so too then. But when
the dinner was ready-it turned out to be
supper, and happened between four and five-
they were all glad enough to take what they
could get. It was boiled rabbit, with onions,
and some bird rather like a chicken, but
stringier about its legs and with a stronger
taste. The Lamb had bread soaked in hot
water and brown sugar sprinkled on the top.
He liked this very much, and consented to let
the two gipsy women feed him with it, as he
sat on Anthea's lap. All that long hot after-
noon Robert and Cyril and Anthea and Jane
had to keep the Lamb amused and happy,
while the gipsies looked eagerly on. By the
time the shadowsgrew long and black across
the meadowshe had really " taken to" the
woman with the light hair, and even con-
98
 ;,.!F>i
o°»i. t

He consentedto let the two gypsy

women feed him
 BEING WANTED

sented to kiss his hand to the children, and to

stand up and bow, with his hand on his chest-
" like a gentleman"-to the two men. The
whole gipsy camp was in raptures with him,
and his brothers and sisters could not help
taking some pleasure in showing off his accom-
plishments to an audience so interested and
enthusiastic. But they longed for sunset.
" We're getting into the habit of longing for
sunset,"Cyril whispered. " How I do wish
we could wish something really sensible,that
would be of some use, so that we should be
quite sorry when sunsetcame."
The shadowsgot longer and longer, and at
last therewere no separateshadowsany more,
but one soft glowing shadowover everything;
for the sunwasout of sight-behind the hill-
but he had not really set yet. The people who
make the laws about lighting bicycle lamps
are the people who decide when the sun sets;
she has to do it too, to the minute, or they
would know the reasonwhy!
But the gipsieswere getting impatient.
" Now, young uns," the red-handkerchief
99
 FIVE CHILDREN AND IT

man said, " it's time you were laying of your

headson your pillowses-so it is! The kid's
all right and friendly with us now-so you
just hand him over and get home like you
said."

The women and children came crowding

round the Lamb, arms were held out, fingers
snapped invitingly, friendly faces beaming
with admiring smiles; but all failed to tempt
the loyal Lamb. He clung with arms and
legsto Jane,who happenedto be holding him,
and uttered the gloomiest roar of the whole
day.
" It's no good," the woman said, " hand the
little poppet over, miss. We'll soon quiet
him."

And still the sun would not set.

"Tell her about how to put him to bed,"
whispered Cyril; " anything to gain time-
and be ready to bolt when the sun really does
make up its silly old mind to set."
" Yes, I'll hand him over in just one minute,"
Anthea began, talking very fast,-" but do let
me just tell you he has a warm bath every
100
 BEING WANTED

night and cold in the morning, and he has a

crockery rabbit to go into the warm bath with
him, and little Samuel saying his prayers in
white china on a red cushion for the cold bath;
and he hates you to wash his ears, but you
must; and if you let the soap get into his eyes,
the Lamb "-
" Lamb kyes," said he-he had stopped
roaring to listen.
The woman laughed. " As if I hadn't never
bath'd a babby!" shesaid. " Come-give us a
hold of him. Come to 'Melia, my pre-
cious "-

" G'way, ugsie!" replied the Lamb at

once.

" Yes, but," Anthea went on, " about his

meals; you really must let me tell you he has
an apple or banana every morning, and bread
and milk for breakfast,and an egg for his tea
sometimes, and"-
" I've brought up ten," said the black ring-
leted woman, "besides the others. Come,
miss,'and 'im over-I can't bear it no longer.
I just must give him a hug."
101
 FIVE CHILDREN AND IT

"We ain't settled yet whosehe's to be,

Esther," said one of the men.
" It won't be you, Esther, with sevenof 'em
at your tail a'ready."
" I ain't so sure of that," said Esther's hus-
band.

" And ain't I nobody, to have a sayneither?"

said the husband of 'Melia.

Zillah, the girl, said, " An' me? I'm a single

girl-and no onebut'im to look after-I ought
to have him."
" Hold your tongue!"
" Shut your mouth! "
" Don't you show me no more of your im-
perence!"
Everyone was getting very angry. The dark
gipsy faceswere frowning and anxious-look-
ing. Suddenly a changeswept over them, as
if someinvisible spongehad wiped awaythese
crossand anxious expressions,and left only a
blank.

The children saw that the sun really had set.

But they were afraid to move. And the
gipsieswere feeling so muddled becauseof the
102
 BEING WANTED

invisible spongethat had washed all the feel-

ings of the last few hours out of their hearts,
that they could not say a word.
The children hardly dared to breathe. Sup-
pose the gipsies,when they recoveredspeech,
should be furious to think how silly they had
been all day?
It was an awkward moment. Suddenly
Anthea, greatly daring, held out the Lamb to
the red-handkerchief man.

" Here he is!" she said.

The man drew back. " I shouldn't like to

deprive you, miss," he said hoarsely.

" Anyone who likes can have my share of
him," said the other man.
" After all, I've got enough of my own,"
said Esther.

" He's a nice little chap, though," said

Amelia. She was the only one who now
looked affectionately at the whimpering
Lamb.

Zillah said, " If I don't think I must

have had a touch of the sun. / don't want
him."

103
 FIVE CHILDREN AND IT

"Then shall we take him away?" said

Anthea.

" Well-suppose you do," said Pharaoh

heartily, " and we'll say no more about it! "
And with great hasteall the gipsiesbeganto
be busy about their tents for the night. All
but Amelia. She went with the children as
far as the bend in the road-and there she
said-

" Let me give him a kiss,miss,-I don't know

what made us go for to behave so silly. Us
gipsies don't steal babies,whatever they may
tell you when you're naughty. We've enough
of our own, mostly. But I've lost all mine."
Sheleanedtowards the Lamb; and he, look-
ing in her eyes,unexpectedlyput up a grubby
soft paw and stroked her face.
"Poor, poor!" said the Lamb. And he let
the gipsy woman kiss him, and, what is more,
he kissed her brown cheek in return-a very
nice kiss, as all his kissesare, and not a wet one
like some babies give. The gipsy woman
moved her finger about on his forehead as if
shehad beenwriting somethingthere, and the
104
 BEING WANTED

same with his chest and his hands and his feet;
then she said-

" May he be brave, and have the strong head

to think with, and the strong heart to love with,
and the strong arms to work with, and the
strong feet to travel with, and always come safe
home to his own." Then she said something
in a strangelanguageno onecould understand,
and suddenlyadded-"
" Well, I must be saying ' so long'-and
glad to have made your acquaintance." And
she turned and went back to her home-the

tent by the grassyroadside.

The children looked after her till she was
out of sight. Then Robert said, " How silly
of her! Even sunset didn't put her right.
What rot she talked!"

" Well," said Cyril, " if you ask me, I think

it was rather decent of her "-
" Decent?" said Anthea; " it was very nice
indeed of her. I think she's a dear"-
" She'sjust too frightfully nice for anything,"
said Jane.
And they went home-very late for tea and
 FIVE CHILDREN AND IT

unspeakably
late for dinner. Martha scolded,
of course. But the Lamb was safe.
" I say-it turned out we wanted the Lamb
as much as anyone," said Robert, later.
"Of course."
" But do you feel different about it now the
sun's set? "

"No," said all the otherstogether.

" Then it's lasted over sunset with us."
" No, it hasn't," Cyril explained. " The
wish didn't do anything to us. We always
wanted him with all our hearts when we were

our proper selves,only we were all pigs this

morning; especially you, Robert." Robert
bore this much with a strangecalm.
" I certainly thought I didn't want him this
morning," said he. " Perhaps I was a pig.
But everything looked so different when we
thought we were going to lose him."
And that, my dear children, is the moral of
this chapter. I did not mean it to have a
moral, but morals are nasty forward beings,
and will keep putting in their oarswhere they
are not wanted. And since the moral has
106
 BEING WANTED

crept in, quite againstmy wishes,you might as

well think of it next time you feel piggy your-
self and want to get rid of any of your brothers
and sisters. I hope this doesn't often happen,
but I daresayit hashappenedsometimes,even
to youI

107
 CHAPTER IV

WINGS

THEnext
day
was
very
wet-too
wet
to
go out, and far too wet to think of
disturbing a Sand-fairy so sensitive to
water that he still, after thousandsof years,
felt the pain of once having his left whisker
wetted. It was a long day, and it was not
till the afternoon that all the children suddenly
decided to write letters to their mother. It

was Robert who had the misfortune to upset

the ink well-an unusually deep and full one
-straight into that part of Anthea's desk
where shehad long pretendedthat an arrange-
ment of mucilage and cardboard painted with
Indian ink was a secret drawer. It was not

exactly Robert's fault; it was only his mis-

fortune that he chancedto be lifting the ink
acrossthe desk just at the moment whenAn-
thea had got it open, and that that samemo-
ment should have been the one chosenby the
108
 WINGS

Lamb to get under the table and break his

squeaking bird. There was a sharp con-
venient wire inside the bird, and of course the
Lamb ran the wire into Robert's leg at once;
and so, without anyone's meaning to do it the
secret drawer was flooded with ink. At the

same time a stream was poured over Anthea's

half-finished letter.

So that her letter was something like this-"

" DARLINGMOTHER,-I hope you are quite well, and

I hopeGranny is better. The other day we. . . ."

Then came a flood of ink, and at the bottom

these words in pencil-

" It was not me upset the ink, but it took such a time
clearing up, so no more as it is post-time.-From your
loving daughter " ANTHEA."

Robert'sletter had not evenbeenbegun. He

had been drawing a ship on the blotting paper
while he was trying to think of what to say.
And of courseafter the ink was upset he had
to help Anthea to clean out her desk, and he
promised to make her another secret drawer,
109
 FIVE CHILDREN AND IT

betterthan the other. And shesaid," Well,

make it now." So it was post-time and his
letter wasn't done. And the secret drawer
wasn't done either.

Cyril wrote a long letter, very fast, and then

went to set a trap for slugs that he had read
about in the Home-made Gardener, and when
it waspost-time the letter could not be found,
and it was never found. Perhaps the slugs
ate it.

Jane'sletter was the only one that went. She

meant to tell her mother all about the Psam-

mead,-in fact they had all meantto do this,-

but she spent so long thinking how to spell the
word that there was no time to tell the story
properly, and it is useless to tell a story unless
you do tell it properly, so she had to be con-
tented with this-

" MY DEARMOTHERDEAR,-We are all as goodas we

can, like you told us to, and the Lamb has a little cold,
but Martha saysit is nothing, only he upset the gold-fish
into himself yesterdaymorning. When we were up at
the sand-pitthe other day we went round by the safeway
where carts go, and we found a "-
110
 WINGS

Half an hour went by before Jane felt quite

sure that they could none of them spell Psam-
mead. And they could not find it in the dic-
tionary either, though they looked. Then
Jane hasily finished her letter-
" We found a strange thing, but it is nearly post-time,
so no more at present from your little girl,
. " JANE.
" P.S.-If you could have a wish cometrue what would
you have? "

Then the postman was heard blowing his

horn, and Robert rushedout in the rain to stop
his cart and give him the letters. And that
was how it happenedthat, though all the chil-
dren meant to tell their mother about the

Sand-fairy, somehowor other she never got

to know. There were other reasonswhy she
never got to know, but these come later.
The next day Uncle Richard came and took
them all to Maidstone in a wagonette-all
except the Lamb. Uncle Richard was the
very bestkind of uncle. He bought them toys
at Maidstone. He took them into a shop and
let them all chooseexactly what they wanted,
in
 FIVE CHILDREN AND IT

without any restrictions about price, and no

nonsenseabout things being instructive. It is
very wise to let children chooseexactly what
they like, becausethey are very foolish and
inexperienced,and sometimesthey will choose
a really instructive thing without meaningto
do so. This happenedto Robert, who chose,
at the last moment,and in a great hurry, a box
with pictures on it of winged bulls with men's
headsand winged men with eagles'heads.He
thought there would be animals inside, the
same as on the box. When he got it home it
was a Sundaypuzzle about ancient Nineveh!
The others chosein haste,and were happy at
leisure. Cyril had a model engine, and the
girls had two dolls, as well as a china tea-set
with forget-me-nots on it, to be " between
them." The boys' "between them" was bow
and arrow.
Then Uncle Richard took them on the beau-
tiful Medway in a boat, and then they all had
tea at a beautiful confectioner's and when they
reached home it was far too late to have any
wishesthat day.
112
 WINGS

They did not tell Uncle Richard anything

about the Psammead. I do not know why.
And they do not know why. But I daresay
you can guess.
The day after Uncle Richard had behaved
so handsomely was a very hot day indeed. The
'peoplewho decide what the weather is to be,
and put its orders down for it in the news-
papers every morning, said afterwards that it
was the hottest day there had been for years.
They had ordered it to be " warmer-some
showers," and warmer it certainly was. In
fact it was so busy being warmer that it had
no time to attend to the order about showers,
so there weren't any.
Have you ever been up at five o'clock on a
fine summer morning? It is very beautiful.
The sunlight is pinky and yellowy, and all the
grass and trees are covered with dew-dia-
monds. And all the shadowsgo the opposite
way to the way they do in the evening,which
is very interesting and makes you feel as
though you were in a new other world.
Anthea woke at five. She had made herself
 FIVE CHILDREN AND IT

wake,andI musttell youhow it is done,even

if it keepsyou waiting for the story to go on.
You getinto bedat night, andlie downquite
flat on your little back, with your hands
straight down by your sides. Then yousay
"I mustwakeup at five" (or six, or seven,
or eight, or nine, or whatever the time is that
you want), and as you say it you push your
chin down on your chestand then whack your
head back on the pillow. And you do this as
many times as there are ones in the time you
want to wake up at. (It is quite an easysum.)
Of courseeverything dependson your really
wanting to get up at five (or six, or seven,or
eight, or nine); if you don't really want to, it's
all of no use. But if you do-well, try it and
see. Of course in this, as in doing Latin
prosesor getting into mischief, practice makes
perfect.
Anthea wasquite perfect.
At the very moment when she openedher
eyesshe heard the black-and-gold clock down
in the dining-room strike eleven. So sheknew
it was three minutes to five. The black-and-
114
 WINGS

gold clock always struck wrong, but it was all

right when you knew what it meant. It was
like a person talking a foreign language. If
you know the languageit is just as easyto un-
derstandas English. And Anthea knew the
clock language. Shewasvery sleepy,but she
jumped out of bed and put her face and hands
into a basin of cold water. This is a fairy
charm that prevents your wanting to get back
into bed again. Then shedressed,and folded
up her night dress. She did not tumble it
together by the sleeves,but folded it by the
seams from the hem, and that will show you
the kind of well-brought-up little girl she was.
Then she took her shoesin her hand and crept
softly down the stairs. She opened the
dining-room window and climbed out. It
would have beenjust as easyto go out by the
door, but the window wasmore romantic, and
less likely to be noticed by Martha.
" I will always get up at five," she said to
herself. " It was quite too awfully pretty for
anything."
Her heart was beating very fast, for shewas
 FIVE CHILDREN AND IT

carrying out a plan quite her own. Shecould

not be sure that it was a good plan, but she
was quite sure that it would not be any better
if she were to tell the others about it. And she
had a feeling that, right or wrong, shewould
rather go through with it alone. Sheput on
her shoes under the iron verandah, on the
red-and-yellow shining tiles, and then sheran
straight to the sand-pit, and found the Psam-
mead's place, and dug it out; it was very
cross indeed.

" It's too bad," it said, fluffing up its fur as

pigeons do their feathers at Christmas time.
" The weather's arctic, and it's the middle of
the night."
" I'm so sorry," said Anthea gently, and she
took off her white pinafore and coveredthe
Sand-fairy up with it, all but its head,its bat's
ears,and its eyesthat were like a snail'seyes.
" Thank you," it said, " that's better.
" What's the wish this morning? "
"I don't know," she said; "that's just it.
You seewe'vebeenvery unlucky,so far. I
wantedto talk to you aboutit. But-would
116
 WINGS

you mind not giving me any wishes till after

breakfast? It's so hard to talk to anyone if
they jump out at you with wishes you don't
really want!"
" You shouldn't say you wish for things if
you don't wish for them. In the old days
people almost always knew whether it was
Megatherium or Ichthyosaurus they really
wanted for dinner."
" I'll try not to do so," said Anthea, " but I do
wish "-
" Look out! " said the Psammead in a warn-
ing voice, and it beganto blow itself out.
"Oh, this isn't a magic wish-it's just-I
should be so glad if you'd not swell yourself
out and nearly burst to give me anything just
now. Wait till the others are here."

"Well, well," it said indulgently, but it

shivered.

"Would you," asked Anthea kindly-

"would you like to come and sit on my lap?
You'd be warmer, and I could turn the skirt
of my frock up around you. I'd be very
careful."

117
 FIVE CHILDREN AND IT

Antheahad neverexpectedthat it would,but

it did.
" Thank you," it said; " you really are rather
thoughtful." It crept on to herlap andsnug-
gled down, and sheput her arms round it with
a rather frightened gentleness." Now then!"
it said.

" Well then," said Anthea, " everything we

have wished has turned out rather horrid. I
wish you would advise us. You are so old,
you must be very wise."
" I was always generous from a child,"
said the Sand-fairy. " I've spent the whole
of my waking hours in giving. But onething
I won't give-that's advice."
" You see," Anthea went "on, " it's such a
wonderful thing-such a splendid, glorious
chance. It's so good and kind and dear of
you to give us our wishes, and it seems
such a pity it should all be wasted just
becausewe are too silly to know what to
wish for."

Antheahad meantto saythat-and shehad

not wantedto say it before the others. It's
118
 WINGS

one thing to sayyou're silly, and quite another

to say that other people are.
" Child," said the Sand-fairy sleepily, " lean
only adviseyou to think before you speak"-
" But I thought you never gave advice."
" That piece doesn'tcount," it said. " You'll
nevertake it! Besides,it's not original. It's
in all the copy-books."
" But won't you just say if you think wings
would be a silly wish? "
"Wings?" it said. "I should think you
might do worse. Only, take care you aren't
flying high at sunset. There was a little
Ninevite boy I heard of once. He was one
of King Sennacherib's sons, and a traveller
brought him a Psammead. He used to keep
it in a box of sand on the palace terrace. It
was a dreadful degradation for one of us, of
course; still the boy was the Assyrian King's
son. And one day he wished for wings and
got them. But he forgot that they would turn
into stoneat sunset,and when they did he fell
on to one of the winged lions at the top of his
father's great staircase; and what with his
119
 FIVE CHILDREN AND IT

stonewings and the lion's stonewings-well

it's not a very pretty story! But I believe the
boy enjoyed himself very much till then."
"Tell me," said Anthea, "why don't our
wishesturn intostonenow? Why dotheyjust
vanish?"

" Autre temps autres mceurs" said the

creature.

"Is that the Ninevite language?" asked

Anthea, who had learned no foreign language
at school except French.
"What I mean is," the Psammeadwent on,
" that in the old days people wished for good
solid everyday gifts,-Mammoths and Ptero-
dactyls and things,-and those could be turned
into stoneaseasyasnot. But peoplewish such
high-flying fanciful things nowadays. How
are you going to turn being beautiful as the
day, or being wanted by everybody, into
stone? You see it can't be done. And it
would never do to have two rules, so they
simply vanish. If being beautiful as the day
could be turned into stone it would last an
awfully long time, you know-much longer
120
 WINGS

than you would. Just look at the Greek

statues. It's just as well as it is. Good-bye.
I am so sleepy."
It jumped off her lap-dug frantically,
and vanished.

Anthea was late for breakfast. It was

Robert who quietly poured a spoonful of
molassesdown the Lamb's frock, so that he had
to be taken away and washed thoroughly
directly after breakfast. And it was of course
a very naughty thing to do; yet it served two
purposes-it delighted the Lamb, who loved
above all things to be completely sticky, and
it engaged Martha's attention so that the
otherscould slip away to the sand-pit without
the Lamb.
They did it, and in the lane Anthea, breath-
less from the hurry of that slipping, panted
out-"

" I want to propose we take turns to wish.

Only, nobody's to have a wish if the others
don't think it's a nice wish. Do you agree?"
"Who's to have first wish?" asked Robert
cautiously.
121
 FIVE CHILDREN AND IT

" Me, if you don't mind," said Anthea

apologetically. " And I've thought aboutit-
and it's wings."
There was a silence. The others rather
wanted to find fault, but it was hard, because
the word " wings" raiseda flutter of joyous
excitement in every breast.
" Not so dusty," said Cyril generously;and
Robert added, " Really, Panther, you're not
quite such a fool as you look."
Jane said, " I think it would be perfectly
lovely. It's like a bright dream of deli-
rium."
They found the Sand-fairy easily. 'Anthea
said-

" I wish we all had beautiful wings to fly

with."
The Sand-fairy blew himself out, and next
moment each child felt a funny feeling, half
heavinessand half lightness, on its shoul-
ders. The Psammead put its head on one
side and turned its snail eyesfrom one sideto
the other.

" Not so bad," it said dreamily. " But really,

122
The Sand-fairy blew himse
 WINGS

Robert, you're not quite such an angel as you

look." Robert almost blushed.

The wings were very big, and more beauti-

ful than you can possibly imagine-for they
were soft and smooth, and every feather lay
neatly in its place. And the feathers were of
the most lovely mixed changing colors, like
the rainbow, or iridescent glass, or the beauti-
ful scum that sometimes floats on water that is
not at all nice to drink.

"Oh-but how can we fly?" Jane said,

standing anxiously first on one foot and then
on the other.

" Look out!" said Cyril; " you're treading on

my wing."
" Does it hurt?" asked Anthea with interest;
but no one answered, for Robert had spread
his wings and jumped up, and now he was
slowly rising in the air. He looked very
awkward in his knickerbocker suit-his boots
in particular hung helplessly, and seemed
much larger than when he was standing in
them. But the others cared but little how he

looked,-or how they looked, for that matter.

123
 FIVE CHILDREN AND IT

For now they all spread out their wings and

rosein the air. Of courseyou all know what
flying feelslike,becauseeveryonehasdreamed
aboutflying,andis seems
sobeautifullyeasy-
only, you can never remember how you did
it; and as a rule you have to do it without
wings, in your dreams, which is more clever
and uncommon, but not so easyto remember
the rule for. Now the four children rose
flapping from the ground, and you can't think
how good the air felt as it ran againsttheir
faces. Their wings were tremendouslywide
when they were spread out, and they had to
fly quite a long way apart so as not to get in
each other's way. But little things like this
are easily learned.
All the words in the English Dictionary, and
in the Greek Lexicon aswell, are, I find, of no
use at all to tell you exactly what it feelslike
to be flying, so I will not try. But I will say
that to look down on the fields and woods

insteadof along at them, is somethinglike

lookingat a beautifullive map,where,instead
of silly colorson paper,youhaverealmoving
124
 WINGS

sunny woods and green fields laid out one after

the other. As Cyril said, and I can't think
where he got hold of sucha strangeexpression,
"It does you a fair treat!" It was most
wonderful and more like real magic than any
wish the children had had yet. They flapped
and flew and sailed on their great rainbow
wings, betweengreen earth and blue sky; and
they flew over Rochester and then swerved
round towards Maidstone, and presently they
all beganto feel extremely hungry. Curiously
enough, this happened when they were flying
rather low, and just as they were crossing an
orchard where some early plums shone red
and ripe.
They pausedon their wings. I cannot ex-
plain to you how this is done, but it is some-
thing like treading water when you are
swimming, and hawks do it extremely well.
" Yes, I daresay,"said Cyril, though no one
had spoken. " But stealing is stealing even if
you've got wings."
" Do you really think so?" said Jane briskly.
" If you've got wings you're a bird, and no one
125
 FIVE CHILDREN AND IT

minds birds breaking the commandments.At

least,theymay mind,but the birdsalwaysdo
it, and no one scolds them or sendsthem to
prison."
It wasnot so easyto perch on a plum-treeas
you might think, becausethe rainbowwings
were so very large; but somehowthey all man-
aged to do it, and the plums were certainly
very sweet and juicy.
Fortunately, it was not till they had all had
quite as many plums as were good for them
that they saw a stout man, who looked exactly
as though he owned the plum-trees, come
hurrying through the orchard gate with a
thick stick, and with one accord they disen-
tangled their wings from the plum-laden
branchesand beganto fly.
The man stopped short,with his mouthopen.
For he had seenthe boughs of his treesmov-
ing and twitching, and he had said to himself,
" Them young varmint-at it again!" And
he had come out at once, for the lads of the
village had taught him in past seasonsthat
plums want looking after. But when he saw
126
They flew over Rochester
 WINGS

the rainbow wings flutter up out of the plum-

tree he felt that he must have gone quite mad,
and he did not like the feeling at all. And
when Anthea looked down and saw his mouth
go slowly open, and stay so, and his face be-
come green and mauve in patches,she called
out--

" Don't be frightened," and felt hastily in

her pocket for a threepenny-bit with a hole in
it, which she had meant to hang on a ribbon
round her neck, for luck. She hovered round
the unfortunate plum-owner, and said, "We
have had someof your plums; we thought it
wasn'tstealing,but now I am not so sure. So
here's some money to pay for them."
She swooped down toward the terror-
stricken grower of plums, and slipped the coin
into the pocket of his jacket, and in a few
flaps she had rejoined the others.
The farmer sat down on the grass,suddenly
and heavily.
" Well-I'm blessed 1" he said. " This here
is what they call delusions,I suppose. But
this here threepenny"-he had pulled it out
127
 FIVE CHILDREN AND IT

andbittenit,-"that's real enough.Well, from

this day forth I'll be a better man. It's thekind
of thing to sober?.chap for life, this is. I'm
glad it was only win-gs, though. I'd rather
seethe birds as aren't there,and couldn'tbe,
even if they pretend to talk, than somethings
as I could name."
He got up slowly and heavily, and went in-
doors,and he was so nice to his wife that day
that she felt quite happy, and said to herself,
"Law, whatever have a-come to the man!"
and smartened herself up and put a blue rib-
bon bow at the place where her collar fastened
on, and looked so pretty that he was kinder
than ever. So perhaps the winged children
really did do one good thing that day. If so,
it was the only one; for really there is nothing
like wings for getting you into trouble. But,
on the other hand, if you are in trouble, there
is nothing like wings for getting you out of it.
This was the case in the matter of the fierce
dog who sprangout at them whentheyhad
folded up their wings as small as possibleand
were going up to a farm door to ask for a
128
The farmersat downon the grasssuddenly
and heavily
 WINGS

crust of bread and cheese, for in spite of the

plums they were soon just as hungry as ever
again.
Now there is no doubt whatever that, if the
four had beenordinary winglesschildren, that
black and fierce dog would have had a good
bite out of the brown-stockinged leg of
Robert, who was the nearest. But at its first
growl there was a flutter of wings, and the
dog was left to strain at his chain and stand
on his hind-legs as if he were trying to fly
too.

They tried several other farms, but at those

where there were no dogs the people were far
too frightened to do anything but scream; and
at last, when it was nearly four o'clock^
and their wings were getting miserably
stiff and tired, they alighted on a church-
tower and held a council of war.

"We can't possibly fly all the way home

without dinner or tea," said Robert with des-
perate decision.
" And nobody will give us any dinner, or
even lunch, let alone tea," said Cyril.
129
 FIVE CHILDREN AND IT

"Perhapstheclergyman
heremight,"sug-
gested Anthea. " He must know all about
angels"-
"Anybody could seewe're not that," said
Jane. " Look at Robert'sbootsand Squirrel's
plaid necktie."
" Well," said Cyril firmly, " if the country
you're in won't sell provisions,you takethem.
In wars I mean. I'm quite certain you do.
And even in other stories no good brother
would allow his little sisters to starve in the
midst of plenty."
" Plenty? " repeated Robert hungrily; and
the otherslooked vaguely round the bareleads
of the church-tower, and murmured, " In the
midst of?"
"Yes," said Cyril impressively. "There is
a larder window at the side of the clergyman's
house,and I sawthings to eat inside-custard
pudding and cold chicken and tongue-and
pies-and jam. It's rather a high window-
but with wings"-
" How clever of you!" said Jane.
" Not at all," said Cyril modestly; " anyborn
130
 WINGS

general-Napoleon or the Duke of Marl-

borough-would have seenit just the sameas
I did."
" It seemsvery wrong," said Anthea.
" Nonsense,"said Cyril. " What was it Sir
Philip Sidney said when the soldier wouldn't
give him a drink?-' My necessityis greater
than his.'"
" We'll club together our money,though, and
leave it to pay for the things, won't we?"
Anthea was persuasive, and very nearly in
tears, because it is most trying to feel enor-
mously hungry and unspeakably sinful at one
and the same time.
" Some of it," was the cautious reply.
Everyone now turned out its pockets on the
lead roof of the tower, where visitors for the
last hundred and fifty yearshad cut their own
and their sweethearts'initials with penknives
in the soft lead. There was five-and-seven-
pence halfpenny altogether, and even the
upright Anthea admitted that that was too
much to pay for four people's dinners. Rob-
ert said he thought eighteenpence.
 FIVE CHILDREN AND IT

And half-a-crown was finally agreedto be

" handsome."
So Anthea wrote on the back of her last
term's report, which happened to be in her
pocket, and from which shefirst tore her own
name and that of the school,the following
letter:-

" DEAR REVEREND

CLERGYMAN,-We are very hungry
indeed because of having to fly all day, and we think it
is not stealing when you are starving to death. We are
afraid to ask you for fear you should say ' No,' because
of course you know about angels, but you would not
think we were angels. We will only take the necessities
of life, and no pudding or pie, to show you it is not
gredinessbut true starvation that makes us makeyour
larder stand and deliver. But we are not highwaymen
by trade."

" Cut it short," said the others with one ac-

cord. And Anthea hastily added-

" Our intentions are quite honourableif you only knew.

And here is half-a-crown to show we are sinseer and
grateful.
" Thank you for your kind hospitality.
"FROM Us FOUR."
132
Everyonenowturnedout his
 WINGS

The half-crown was wrapped in this letter,

and all the children felt that when the
clergyman had read it he would understand
everything, as well as anyonecould who had
not even seen the wings.
"Now," said Cyril, " of coursethere's some
risk; we'd better fly straight down the other
side of the tower and then flutter low across

the churchyard and in through the shrubbery.

There doesn't seem to be anyone about. But
you never know. The window looks out into
the shrubbery. It is embowered in foliage,
like a window in a story. I'll go in and get
the things. Robert and Anthea can take
them as I hand them out through the win-
dow; and Jane can keep watch,-her eyesare
sharp,-and whistle if she sees anyone about.
Shut up, Robert! she can whistle quite well
enough for that, anyway. It ought not to be
a very good whistle-it'll sound more natural
and birdlike. Now then-off we go1"
I cannot pretend that stealing is right. I
can only say that on this occasion it did not
look like stealing to the hungry four, but ap-
133
 FIVE CHILDREN AND IT

peared in the light of a fair and reasonable

businesstransaction. They had neverhap-
penedto learnthat a tongue,-hardlycutinto
-a chickenand a half, a loaf of bread,anda
syphon of soda-water cannot be bought in the
stores for half-a-crown. These were the
necessariesof life, which Cyril handedoutof
the larder window when, quite unobserved
and without hindrance or adventure,he had
led the others to that happy spot. He felt
that to refrain from jam, apple pie, cake,and
mixed candied peel, was a really heroic act-
and I agree with him. He was alsoproudof
not taking the custard pudding,-and thereI
think he was wrong,-because if he had taken
it there would have been a difficulty about re-
turning the dish; no one, however starving,
has a right to steal china pie-disheswith little
pink flowers on them. The soda-watersyphon
was different. They could not do without
something to drink, and as the maker'sname
wason it theyfelt sureit would bereturned
to
him whereverthey might leaveit. If they
had time theywould takeit backthemselves.
134
These were the necessaries of life
 WINGS

The man appeared to live in Rochester,

which would not be much out of their way
home.

Everything was carried up to the top of the

tower, and laid down on a sheet of kitchen
paper which Cyril had found on the top shelf
of the larder. As he unfolded it, Anthea
said, " I don't think that's a necessity of
life."

"Yes, it is," said he. "We must put the

things down somewhereto cut them up; and
I heard father say the other day people got
diseasesfrom germans in rain-water. Now
there must be lots of rain-water here,-and
when it dries up the germans are left, and
they'd get into the things, and we should all
die of scarlet fever."
"What are germans?"
" Little waggly things you see with micro-
scopes," said Cyril, with a scientific air.
" They give you every illnessyou can think of.
I'm sure the paper was a necessary,just as
much as the bread and meat and water. Now
then! Oh, I'm hungry!"
135
 FIVE CHILDREN AND IT

I do not wish to describethe picnic party on

the top of the tower. You can imagine well
enough what it is like to carve a chickenand
a tongue with a knife that has only one blade
and that snappedoff short about half-way
down. But it was done. Eating with your
fingers is greasy and difficult-and paper
dishessoonget to look very spotty and horrid.
But one thing you can't imagine, and that is
how soda-water behaves when you try to drink
it straight out of a syphon-especially a quite
full one. But if imagination will not help
you, experiencewill, and you can easily try it
for yourself if you can get a grown-up to give
you the syphon. If you want to have a really
thorough experience, put the tube in your
mouth and press the handle very suddenly and
very hard. You had better do it when you
are alone-and out of doors is best for this
experiment.
However you eat them, tongue and chicken
and new bread are very good things, and no
one minds being sprinkled a little with soda-
water on a really fine hot day. So that every-
136
 WINGS

one enjoyedthe dinner very much indeed,and

everyoneate asmuch asit possiblycould: first,
because it was extremely hungry; and sec-
ondly, because,as I said, tongue and chicken
and new bread are very nice.
Now, I daresayyou will have noticed that
if you have to wait for your dinner till long
after the proper time, and then eat a great
deal more dinner than usual, and sit in the
hot sun on the top of a church-tower-or
even anywhere else-you become soon and
strangely sleepy. Now Anthea and Jane and
Cyril and Robert were very like you in many
ways, and when they had eaten all they could,
and drunk all there was, they became sleepy,
strangely and soon-especially Anthea, be-
causeshe had gotten up so early.
One by one they left off talking and leaned
back, and before it was a quarter of an hour
after dinner they had all curled round and
tucked themselvesup under their large soft
warm wings and were fast asleep. And the
sun was sinking slowly in the west. (I must
say it was in the west, becauseit is usual in
137
 FIVE CHILDREN AND IT

books to say so, for fear careless people should

think it was setting in the east. In point of
fact, it was not exactly in the west either-
but that's near enough.) The sun, I repeat,
was sinking slowly in the west, and the chil-
dren slept warmly and happily on-for wings
are cosier than eider-down quilts to sleep
under. The shadow of the church-tower fell
acrossthe churchyard, and acrossthe Vicar-
age,and acrossthe field beyond; and presently
there were no more shadows, and the sun had
set, and the wings were gone. And still the
children slept. But not for long. Twilight
is very beautiful, but it is chilly; and you
know, however sleepy you are, you wake up
soonenough if your brother or sisterhappens
to be up first and pulls your blankets off you.
The four wingless children shivered and woke.
And there they were,-on the top of a church-
tower in the dusky twilight, with blue stars
coming out by ones and twos and tens and
twenties over their heads,-miles away from
home, with three shillings and three-half-
pence in their pockets, and a doubtful act
138
The childrenwerefastasleep
 WINGS

about the necessities of life to be accounted for

if anyone found them with the soda-water
syphon.
They looked at each other. Cyril spoke
first, picking up the syphon-
"We'd better get along down and get rid of
this beastly thing. It's dark enough to leave
it on the clergyman'sdoorstep,I should think.
Come on."

There was a little turret at the corner of the

tower, and the little turret had a door in it.
They had noticed this when they were eating,
but had not explored it, as you would have
donein their place. Because,of course,when
you have wings and can explore the whole
sky, doorsseemhardly worth exploring.
Now they turned towards it.
" Of course," said Cyril " this is the way
down."
It was. But the door was locked on the
inside!

And the world was growing darker and

darker. And they were miles from home.
And therewas the soda-watersyphon.
139
 FIVE CHILDREN AND IT

I shall not tell you whether anyonecried,

nor, if so, how many cried, nor who cried.
You will be better employed in making up
your minds what you would have doneif you
had been in their place.

140
 CHAPTER V

NO WINGS

WHETHER
anyone
cried
ornot,
there was certainly an interval dur-
ing which none of the party was
quite itself. When they grew calmer, Anthea
put her handkerchief in her pocket and her
arm round Jane, and said-
" It can't be for more than one night. We
can signal with our handkerchiefs in the
morning. They'll be dry then. And some-
one will come up and let us out"-
" And find the syphon," said Cyril gloomily;
"and we shall be sentto prison for stealing"-
" You said it wasn't stealing. You said you
were sure it wasn't."

" I'm not sure now," said Cyril shortly.

" Let's throw the thing away among the
trees," said Robert, " then no one can do any-
thing to us."
" Oh yes,"-Cyril's laugh was not a light-
141
 FIVE CHILDREN AND IT

hearted one,-" and hit some chap on the

head, and be murderers as well as-as the
other thing."
" But we can't stay up here all night," said
Jane; " and I want my tea."
"You can't want your tea," said Robert;
" you've only just had your dinner."
"But I do want it," she said; "especially
when you begin talking about stopping up
here all night. Oh, Panther-I want to go
home! I want to go home! "
" Hush, hush," Anthea said. " Don't, dear.
It'll be all right, somehow. Don't, don't "-
" Let her cry," said Robert desperately;"if
shehowls loud enough,someonemay hear and
come and let us out."

" And seethe soda-waterthing," said Anthea

swiftly. " Robert, don't be a brute. Oh,
Jane, do try to be a man! It's just the same
for all of us."

Jane did try to " be a man "-and reduced

her howls to sniffs.
There was a pause. Then Cyril said slowly,
" Look here. We must risk that syphon. I'll
142
 NO WINGS

button it up inside my jacket-perhaps no one

will notice it. You otherskeep well in front
of me. There are lights in the clergyman's
house. They've not gone to bed yet. We
must just yell as loud as ever we can. Now all
screamwhen I say three. Robert, you do the
yell like a railway engine, and I'll do the
coo-ee like father's. The girls can do as they
please. One, two, three! "
A four-fold yell rent the silent peaceof the
evening, and a maid at one of the Vicarage
windows paused with her hand on the blind-
cord.

"One, two, three!" Another yell, piercing

and complex, startled the owls and starlings to
a flutter of feathersin the belfry below. The
maid flew from the Vicarage window and ran
down the Vicarage stairs and into the Vicar-
age kitchen, and fainted as soon as she had
explained to the man-servant and the cook and
the cook'scousinthat shehad seena ghost. It
was quite untrue, of course,but I supposethe
girl's nerves were a little upset by the
yelling.
H3
 FIVE CHILDREN AND IT

"One, two, three!" The Vicar was on his

doorstep by this time, and there was no mis-
taking the yell that greeted him.
"Goodnessme," he said to his wife, "my
dear,someone's being murdered in thechurch!
Give me my hat and a thick stick, and tell
Andrew to come after me. I expect it's the
lunatic who stole the tongue."
The children had seen the flash of light when
the Vicar opened his front door. They had
seenhis dark form on his doorstep, and they
had paused for breath, and also to seewhat he
would do.

When he turned back for his hat, Cyril

said hastily-
" He thinks he only fancied he heard some-
thing. You don't half yell! Now! One,
two, three!"
It was certainly a whole yell this time, and
the Vicar's wife flung her arms round her hus-
band and screamed a feeble echo of it.

"You shan't go!" she said, "not alone.

Jessie!"-the maid unfainted and cameout of
the kitchen,-" sendAndrew at once. There's
144
 NO WINGS

a dangerouslunatic in the church, and hemust

go immediately and catch him."
" I expect he teill catch it too," said Jessie to
herself as she went through the kitchen door.
'"' Here, Andrew," she said, " there's someone
screaminglike mad in the church, and the
missussaysyou're to go along and catch it."
"Not alone, I don't," said Andrew in low firm
tones. To his master he merely said, " Yis
sir."

"You heard those screams?"

" I did think I noticed a sort of something,"

said Andrew.

"Well, comeon, then," said the Vicar. " My

dear,I must go!" He pushedher gently into
the sitting-room, bangedthe door, and rushed
out, dragging Andrew by the arm.
A volley of yells greeted them. Then as it
died into silence Andrew shouted, " Hullo,
you there! Did you call?"
" Yes," shoutedfour far-away voices.
" They seemto be in the air," said the Vicar.
" Very remarkable."
"Where are you?" shouted Andrew; and
H5
 FIVE CHILDREN AND IT

Cyril replied in his deepestvoice,very slow

and loud-
"CHURCH! TOWERI TOP!"
" Come down, then! " said Andrew; and the
same voice replied-"
"Can't! Door locked!"

" My goodness!" said the Vicar. " Andrew,

fetch the stable lantern. Perhaps it would
be as well to fetch another man from the
village."
" With the rest of the gang about,very likely.
No, sir; if this 'ere ain't a trap-well, may I
never! There's cook's cousin at the back
door now. He's a keeper, sir, and used to
dealing with vicious characters. And he's
got his gun, sir."
"Hullo there!" shouted Cyril from the
church-tower; " comeup and let us out."
"We're a-coming," said Andrew. "I'm a-
going to get a policeman and a gun."
" Andrew, Andrew," said the Vicar, " that's
not the truth."

" It's nearenough,sir, for the likesof them."

So Andrew fetched the lantern and the cook's

146
 NO WINGS

cousin; and the Vicar's wife beggedthem all

to be very careful.
They went across the churchyard-it was
quite dark now-and as they went they talked.
The Vicar was certain a lunatic was on the
church-tower-the one who had written the

mad letter, and taken the cold tongue and

things. Andrew thought it was a " trap ";
the cook's cousin alone was calm. "Great

cry, little wool," said he; " dangerouschaps

is quieter." He was not at all afraid. But
then he had a gun. That was why he was
askedto lead the way up the worn, steep,dark
steps of the church-tower. He did lead the
way, with the lantern in one hand and the gun
in the other. Andrew went next. He pre-
tended afterwards that this was because he
wasbraver than his master,but really it was
becausehe thought of traps and he did not
like theideaof being behind the othersfor fear
someoneshould come softly up behind him
and catchhold of his legs in the dark. They
went on and on, and round and round the little
corkscrew staircase-then through the bell-
H7
 FIVE CHILDREN AND IT

ringers' loft, where the bell-ropes hung with

soft furry ends like giant caterpillars-then
up anotherstair into the belfry, where the big
quiet bells are-and then on up a ladder with
broad steps-and then up a little stonestair.
And at the top of that there was a little door.
And the door was bolted on the stair side.
The cook's cousin, who was a gamekeeper,
kicked at the door, and said-
"Hullo, you thereI"
The children were holding on to each other
on the other side of the door, and trembling
with anxiousness-and very hoarse with their
howls. They could hardly speak, but Cyril
managed to reply huskily-
"Hullo, you there!"
" How did you get up there?"
It wasno use saying" We flew up," so Cyril
said-

" We got up--and then we found the door

was locked and we couldn't get down. Let
us out-do."

" How many of you are there?" asked the

keeper.
148
 NO WINGS

"Only four," said Cyril.

"Are you armed?"
" Are we what? "
" I've got my gun handy-so you'd best not
try any tricks," said the keeper. " If we open
the door, will you promise to come quietly
down, and no nonsense?"
"Yes-oh YES!" said all ,the children
together.
" Blessme," said the Vicar, "surely that was
a female voice?"

"Shall I open the door, sir?" said the

keeper. Andrew went down a few steps," to
leave room for the others " he said afterwards.
" Yes," said the Vicar, " open the door. Re-
member," he said through the keyhole, " we
havecometo releaseyou. You will keep your
promise to refrain from violence? "
"How this bolt do stick," said the keeper;
"
anyone 'ud think it hadn't been drawed for
half a year." As a matter of fact it hadn't.
When all the bolts were drawn, the keeper
spoke deep-chestedwords through the key-
hole.

149
 FIVE CHILDREN AND IT

" I don't open," said he, " till you've gone

over to the other side of the tower. And if
one of you comesat me I fire. Now!"
" We're all over on the other side," said the
voices.

The keeper felt pleased with himself, and

owned himself a bold man when he threw open
that door, and, stepping out into the leads,
flashed the full light of the stable lantern
on the group of desperadoes standing
against the parapet on the other side of the
tower.

He lowered his gun, and he nearly dropped

the lantern.

" So help me," he cried, " if they ain't a pack

of kiddies!"

The Vicar now advanced.

"How did you come here?" he asked
severely. " Tell me at once."
" Oh, take us down," said Jane, catching at
his coat," and we'll tell you anything you like.
You won't believe us, but it doesn't matter.
Oh, take us down!"
The others crowded round him, with the
150
The keeperspokedeep-chested
words
through the keyhole
 NO WINGS

sameentreaty. All but Cyril. He had enough

to do with the soda-water syphon, which
would keep slipping down under his jacket.
It neededboth hands to keep it steady in its
place.
But he said, standing as far out of the lantern
light as possible-
" Please do take us down."
Sothey were taken down. It is no joke to go
down a strangechurch-tower in the dark, but
the keeperhelpedthem-only, Cyril had to be
independent because of the soda-water syphon.
It would keep trying to get away. Half-way
down the ladder it all but escaped. Cyril
just caughtit by its spout, and asnearly aspos-
sible lost his footing. He was trembling and
pale when at last they reached the bottom of
the winding stair and stepped out on to the
stonesof the church-porch.
Then suddenly the keeper caught Cyril and
Roberteachby an arm.
"You bring along the gells, sir," said he;
"you and Andrew can managethem."
"Let go!" said Cyril; "we aren't running
 FIVE CHILDREN AND IT

away. We haven't hurt your old church.

Leave go!"
" You just comealong," said the keeper; and
Cyril dared not opposehim with violence,
becausejust then the syphon began to slip
again.
So they were marched into the Vicarage
study, and the Vicar's wife camerushing in.
" Oh, William, are you safe?" shecried.
Robert hastened to allay her anxiety.
" Yes," he said, " he's quite safe. We haven't
hurt them at all. And please,we're very late,
and they'll be anxious at home. Could you
sendus home in your carriage? "
"Or perhaps there's a hotel near where we
could get a carriage," said Anthea. " Martha
will be very anxious as it is."
The Vicar had sunk into a chair, overcome
by emotion and amazement.
Cyril had also sat down, and was leaning
forward with his elbows on his knees because
of the soda-watersyphon.
" But how did you come to be locked up in
the church-tower?" asked the Vicar.

152
 NO WINGS

"We went up," said Robert slowly, "and we

were tired, and we all went to sleep, and when
we woke up we found the door was locked, so
we yelled."
"I should think you did!" said the Vicar's
wife. " Frightening everybody out of their
wits like this! You ought to be ashamedof
yourselves."
" We are" saidJane gently.
" But who locked the door?" asked the
Vicar.

" I don't know at all," said Robert,with per-

fect truth. " Do pleasesendus home."
"Well, really," said the Vicar, "I suppose
we'd better. Andrew, put the horse to, and
you can take them home."
" Not alone,I don't," said Andrew to himself.
And the Vicar went on, " let this be a lesson
to you" He went on talking, and the
children listened miserably. But the keeper
was not listening. He waslooking at the un-
fortunate Cyril. He knew all about poach-
ers, of course, so he knew how people look
when they're hiding something. The Vicar
153
 FIVE CHILDREN AND IT

had just got to the part abouttrying to grow up

to be a blessing to your parents, and not a
trouble and disgrace, when the keeper sud-
denly said-
"Arst him what he's got there under his
jacket;" and Cyril knew that concealment
was at an end. So he stood up, and squared
his shoulders and tried to look noble, like the
boys in books that no one can look in the face
of and doubt that they comeof brave andnoble
families, and will be faithful to the death,and
he pulled out the syphon and said-"
"Well, there you are, then."
There was silence. Cyril went on-there
was nothing else for it-
"Yes, we took this out of your larder, and
some chicken and tongue and bread. We
were very hungry, and we didn't take the
custard or jam. We only took bread and
meat and water,-and we couldn't help its
being soda kind,-just the necessariesof life;
and we left half-a-crown to pay for it, and we
left a letter. And we're very sorry. And my
father will pay a fine and anything you like,
154
 NO WINGS

but don't send us to prison. Mother would

be so vexed. You know what you said about
not being a disgrace. Well, don't you go and
do it to us-that's all I We're as sorry as we
can be. There!"

" However did you get up to the larder win-

dow?" said Mrs. Vicar.
" I can't tell you that," said Cyril firmly.
" Is this the whole truth you've been telling
me?" askedthe clergyman.
"No," answered Jane suddenly; "it's all
true, but it's not the whole truth. We can't
tell you that. It's no good asking. Oh, do
forgive us and take us home! " She ran to the
Vicar's wife and threw her arms round her.

The Vicar's wife put her arms round Jane,

and the keeper whispered behind his hand to
the Vicar-

" They're all right, sir-I expect it's a pal

they're standing by. Someoneput 'em up to
it, and they won't peach. Game little kids."
" Tell me," said the Vicar kindly, " are you
screening someone else? Had anyone else
anything to do with this?"
155
 FIVE CHILDREN AND IT

"Yes," said Anthea, thinking of the Psam-

mead; " but it wasn't their fault."
" Very well, my dears,"said the Vicar, " then
let's say no more about it. Only just tell us
why you wrote such an odd letter."
" I don't know," said Cyril. " You see,
Anthea wrote it in such a hurry, and it really
didn't seem like stealing then. But after-
wards, when we found we couldn't get down
off the church-tower, it seemedjust exactly
"-
like it. We are all very sorry
"Say no more aboutit," said the Vicar's wife;
" but another time just think before you take
other people'stongues. Now-some cakeand
milk before you go home? "
When Andrew came to say that the horse
was put to, and was he expected to be led alone
into the trap that he had plainly seenfrom the
first, he found the children eating caEeand
drinking milk and laughing at the Vicar's
jokes. Jane was sitting on the Vicar's wife's
lap.
So you seethey got off better than they de-
served.

156
 NO WINGS

The gamekeeper,who was the cook'scousin,

askedleaveto drive homewith them, and An-
drew was only too glad to have someone to
protect him from that trap he was so certain of.
When the wagonette reached their own
house, between the chalk-quarry and the
gravel-pit, the children were very sleepy, but
they felt that they and the keeper were friends
for life.

Andrew dumped the children down at the

iron gate without a word.
" You get along home," said the Vicarage
cook's cousin, who was a gamekeeper. " I'll
get me home on shanks' mare."
So Andrew had to drive off alone, which
he did not like at all, and it was the keeper
that was cousin to the Vicarage cook who went
with the children to the door, and, when they
had been swept to bed in a whirlwind of re-
proaches, remained to explain to Martha and
the cook and the housemaid exactly what had
happened. He explainedsowell that Martha
was quite amicable the next morning.
After that he often used to come over and see

157
 FIVE CHILDREN AND IT

Martha, and in the end-but that is another

story, as dear Mr. Kipling says.
Martha was obliged to stick to what she had
said the night before about keeping the chil-
dren indoors the next day for a punishment.
But shewasn't at all ugly about it, and agreed
to let Robert go out for half an hour to get
something he particularly wanted.
This, of course,was the day's wish.
Robert rushed to the gravel-pit, found the
Psammead, and presently wished for-
But that, too, is another story.

158
 CHAPTER VI

A CASTLE AND NO DINNER

THE others
were
tobe
kept
inas
a
punishment for the misfortunes of
the day before. Of course Martha
thought it wasnaughtiness,and not misfortune
-so you must not blame her. She only
thought she was doing her duty. You know,
grown-up people often say they do not like to
punish you, and that they only do it for your
own good, and that it hurts them as much as
it hurts you-and this is really very often the
truth.

Martha certainly hated having to punish the

children quite as much as they hated to be
punished. For one thing, she knew what a
noisetherewould be in the houseall day. And
she had other reasons.
" I declare," she said to the cook, " it seems
almost a shamekeeping of them indoors this
lovely day; but they are that audacious,they'll
"59
 FIVE CHILDREN AND IT

be walking in with their heads knocked off

someof thesedays,if I don't put my foot down.
You make them a cake for tea to-morrow,
dear. And we'll have Baby along of us soon
as we've got a bit forrard with our work.
Then they can have a good romp with him,
out of the way. Now, Eliza, come, get on
with them beds. Here's ten o'clock nearly,
and no rabbits caught! "
People say that in Kent when they mean
" and no work done."

So all the others were kept in, but Robert,

as I have said, was allowed to go out for half
an hour to get something they all wanted.
And that, of course,wasthe day'swish.
He had no difficulty in finding the Sand-
fairy, for the day was alreadyso hot that it had
actually, for the first time, comeout of its own
accord,and wassitting in a sort of pool of soft
sand, stretching itself, and trimming its whis-
kers, and turning its snail's eyes round and
round.

" Ha!" it said when its left eye saw Robert;

" I've been looking for you. Where are the
160
 A CASTLE AND NO DINNER

restof you? Not smashedthemselvesup with

thosewings, I hope?"
"No," said Robert; "but the wings got us
into a row, just like all the wishes always do.
So the othersare kept indoors, and I was only
let out for half an hour-to get the wish. So
pleaselet mewish as quickly asI can."
" Wish away," said the Psammead, twisting
itself round in the sand. But Robert couldn't
wish away. He forgot all the things he had
been thinking about, and nothing would come
into his head but little things for himself, like
candy, a foreign stamp album, or a knife with
three blades and a corkscrew. He sat down

to think better of things the others would not

have cared for-such as a football, or a pair
of leg-guards,or to be able to lick Simpkins
Minor thoroughly when he went back to
school.

" Well," said the Psammeadat last, "you'd

better hurry up with that wish of yours.
Time flies."
" I know it does," said Robert. " / can't
think what to wish for. I wish you could give
161
 FIVE CHILDREN AND IT

one of the others their wish without their

having to come here to ask for it. Oh,
don't!"

But it was too late. The Psammead had

blown itself out to about three times its proper
size, and now it collapsed like a pricked bub-
ble, and with a deep sigh leanedback against
the edge of the sand-pool, quite faint with the
effort.

"There!" it said in a weak voice; "it was

tremendouslyhard-but I did it. Run along
home, or they're sure to wish for something
silly before you get there."
They were-quite sure; Robert felt this, and
ashe ran home his mind wasdeeply occupied
with the sort of wisheshe might find they had
wished in his absence. They might wish for
rabbits, or white mice, or chocolate,or a fine
day to-morrow, or even-and that was most
likely-someone might have said, " I do wish
to goodnessRobert would hurry up." Well,
he was hurrying up, and so they would have
had their wish, and the day would be wasted.
Then he tried to think what they could wish
162
 A CASTLE AND NO DINNER

for-something that would be amusing in-

doors. That had beenhis own difficulty from
the beginning. So few things are amusing
indoors when the sun is shining outside and
you mayn't go out, however much you want
to do so.

Robert was running as fast as he could, but

when he turned the corner that ought to have
brought him within sight of the architect's
nightmare-the ornamental iron-work on the
top of the house-he opened his eyes so wide
that he had to drop into a walk; for you can-
not run with your eyes wide open. Then sud-
denly he stopped short, for there was no house
to be seen. The front garden railings were
gone too, and where the house had stood-
Robert rubbedhis eyesand looked again. Yes,
the others had wished,-there was no doubt
aboutit,-and they must havewished that they
lived in a castle; for there the castle stood,
black and stately, and very tall and broad,
with battlements and lancet windows, and
eight great towers; and, where the garden and
the orchard had been,there were white things
163
 FIVE CHILDREN AND IT

dotted like mushrooms. Robert walked

slowly on, and as he got nearer he saw that
thesewere tents, and men in armor were walk-
ing aboutamongthe tents-crowds andcrowds
of them.

" Oh!" said Robert fervently. " They have!

They've wished for a castle,and it's being be-
sieged! It's just like that Sand-fairy! I wish
we'd never seen the beastly thing"!"
At the little window above the great gate-
way, acrossthe moat that now lay where the
garden had been but half an hour ago, some-
one was waving something pale dust-colored.
Robert thought it was one of Cyril's handker-
chiefs. They had never been white since
the day when he had upset the bottle of " Com-
bined Toning and Fixing Solution " into the
drawer where they were. Robert waved back,
and immediately felt that he had beenunwise.
For this signal had beenseenby the besieging
force, and two men in steel-caps were coming
towards him. They had high brown bootson
their long legs, and they came towards him
with such great strides that Robert remem-
164
There the castle stood, black a
 A CASTLE AND NO DINNER

bered the shortnessof his own legs and did not

run away. He knew it would be uselessto
himself, and he feared it might be irritating
to the foe. So he stood still-and the two
men seemedquite pleased with him.
"
" By my halidom," said one, a brave varlet
this!"

Robert felt pleased at being called brave,

and somehow it made him feel brave. He
passed over the "varlet." It was the way
people talked in historical romances for the
young,he knew, and it wasevidently not meant
for rudeness. He only hoped he would be
able to understand what they said to him. He
had not been always able quite to follow the
conversations in the historical romances for
the young.
" His garb is strange," said the other. " Some
outlandish treachery, belike."
" Say,lad, what brings theehither? "
Robert knew this meant," Now then, young-
ster, what are you up to here, eh?"-so he
said-"

" If you please,I want to go home."

165
 FIVE CHILDREN AND IT

" Go, then!" said the man in the longest

boots; "none hindereth, and nought lets us to
follow. Zooks! " he added in a cautious un-
dertone, " I misdoubt me but he beareth
tidings to the besieged."
" Where dwellest thou, young knave?" in-
quired the man with the largest steel-cap.
"Over there," said Robert; and directly he
had said it he knew he ought to have said
"Yonder!"

" Ha-sayest so?" rejoined the longestboots.

" Come hither, boy. This is matter for our
leader."

And to the leader Robert was dragged forth-

with-by the reluctant ear.
The leader was the most glorious creature
Robert had ever seen. He was exactly like
the pictures Robert had so often admired in
the historical romances. He had armor, and a
helmet, and a horse,and a crest, and feathers,
and a shield and a lance and a sword. His
armor and his weapons were all, I am almost
sure, of quite different periods. The shield
was thirteenth century, while the sword was
166
Robertwasdraggedforthwith- by the
reluctant ear
 A CASTLE AND NO DINNER

of the pattern used in the Peninsular War.

The cuirass was of the time of Charles I., and
the helmet dated from the Second Crusade.
The arms on the shield were very grand-
three red running lions on a blue ground. The
tents were of the latest brand approved of by
our modern War Office, and the whole ap-
pearance of camp, army, and leader might
have been a shock to some. But Robert was
dumb with admiration, and it all seemed to
him perfectly correct, because he knew no
more of heraldry or archaeologythan the
gifted artists who usually drew the pictures
for the historical romances. The scene was

indeed" exactly like a picture." He admired

it all so much that he felt braver than ever.

" Comehither, lad," said the glorious leader,

when the men in Cromwellian steel-caps had
said a few low eager words. And he took off
his helmet, becausehe could not seeproperly
with it on. He had a kind face, and long fair
hair. "Have no fear; thou shalt take no
scathe," he said.
Robert was glad of that. He wondered
167
 FIVE CHILDREN AND IT

what "scathe" was, and if it was nastier than

the medicine which he had to take some-
times.

" Unfold thy tale without alarm," said the

leader kindly. "Whence comest thou, and
what is thine intent? "

"My what?" said Robert.

" What seekest thou to accomplish? What
is thine errand, that thou wanderestherealone
amongtheserough men-at-arms? Poor child,
thy mother'sheart achesfor theee'en now, I'll
warrant me."

" I don't think so," said Robert; "you see,

she doesn't know I'm out."

The leader wiped away a manly tear, exactly

as a leader in a historical romance would have

done, and said-

"Fear not to speak the truth, my child;
thou hast nought to fear from Wulfric de
Talbot."

Robert had a wild feeling that this glorious

leader of the besiegingparty-being himself
part of a wish-would be able to understand
better than Martha, or the gipsies, or the
168
He wiped away a manly tear
 A CASTLE AND NO DINNER

policeman in Rochester,or the clergyman of

yesterday,the true tale of the wishes and the
Psammead. The only difficulty was that he
knew he could never remember enough
" quothas" and " beshrew me's," and things
like that, to make his talk sound like the talk
of a boy in a historical romance. However, he
began boldly enough, with a sentence straight
out of Ralph de Courcy; or, The Boy Cru-
sader. He said-

" Grammercy for thy courtesy, fair sir knight.

The fact is, it's like this-and I hope you're
not in a hurry, because the story's rather a
breather. Father and mother are away, and
when we went down playing in the sand-pits
we found a Psammead."

"I cry thee mercy! A Sammyadd?" said

the knight.
" Yes, a sort of-of fairy, or enchanter-yes,
that's it, an enchanter; and he said we could
have a wish every day, and we wished first to
be beautiful."

"Thy wish was scarce granted," muttered

one of the men-at-arms, looking at Robert,
169
 FIVE CHILDREN AND IT

who went on as if he had not heard, though he

thought the remark very rude indeed.
"And then we wished for money-treasure,
you know; but we couldn't spend it. And
yesterday we wished for wings, and we got
them, and we had a ripping time to begin
with "-

" Thy speechis strange and uncouth," said

Sir Wulf ric de Talbot. " Repeatthy words-
what hadst thou?"
" A ripping-I mean a jolly-no-we were
contented with our lot-that's what I mean;
only, after we got into an awful fix."
"What is a fix? A fray, mayhap?"
" No-not a fray. A-a-a tight place."
"A dungeon? Alas for thy youthful fet-
tered limbs 1" said the knight, with polite sym-
pathy.
" It wasn't a dungeon. We just-just en-
countered undeserved misfortunes," Robert
explained, " and to-day we are punished by not
being allowed to go out. That's where I live,"
"-he pointed to the castle. " The others are
in there, and they're not allowed to go out. It's
170
 A CASTLE AND NO DINNER

all the Psammead's-I mean the enchanter's

fault. I wish we'd never seen him."
" He is an enchanter of might?"
" Oh yes-of might and main. Rather! "
" And thou deemest that it is the spells of the
enchanter whom thou hast angered that have
lent strength to the besiegingparty," said the
gallant leader; "but know thou that Wulfric
de Talbot needs no enchanter's aid to lead his
followers to victory."
"No, I'm sure you don't," said Robert, with
hastycourtesy; " of coursenot-you wouldn't,
you know. But, all the same,it's partly his
fault, but we're most to blame. You couldn't
have done anything if it hadn't been for us."
"How now, bold boy?" asked Sir Wulfric
haughtily. " Thy speech is dark, and eke
scarce courteous. Unravel me this riddle!"
" Oh," said Robert desperately," of course
you don't know it, but you're not real at all.
You're only here becausethe othersmust have
been idiots enough to wish for a castle-and
when the sun setsyou'll just vanish away,and
it'll be all right."
171
 FIVE CHILDREN AND IT

The captain and the men-at-armsexchanged

glancesat first pitying, and then sterner,asthe
longest-bootedman said, " Beware, my noble
lord; the urchin doth but feign madness to
escape from our clutches. Shall we not bind
him?"

" I'm no more mad than you are," said Rob-

ert angrily, " perhaps not so much-Only, I
was an idiot to think you'd understand any-
thing. Let me go-I haven't done anything
to you."
"Whither?" asked the knight, who seemed
to have believed all the enchanter story till
it came to his own share in it. " Whither
wouldst thou wend? "

" Home, of course." Robert pointed to the

castle.

"To carry newsof succor? Nay!"

" All right, then," said Robert, struck by a
suddenidea; " then let me go somewhereelse."
His mind soughteagerly amongthe memories
of the historical romance.

"Sir Wulfric de Talbot," he said slowly,

" should think foul scorn to-to keep a chap-
172
 A CASTLE AND NO DINNER

I mean one who has done him no hurt-when

he wants to cut off quietly-I mean to depart
without violence."

"This to my face! Beshrew thee for a

knave!" replied Sir Wulfric. But the appeal
seemedto have gonehome. " Yet thou sayest
sooth," he added thoughtfully. " Go where
thou wilt," he added nobly, " thou art free.
Wulfric de Talbot warreth not with babes,
and Jakin here shall bear thee company."
"All right," said Robert wildly. "Jakin
will enjoy himself, I think. Come on, Jakin.
Sir Wulfric, I salute thee."
He saluted after the modern military man-
ner, and set off running to the sand-pit,
Jakin's long boots keeping up easily.
He found the Fairy. He dug it up, hewoke
it up, he implored it to give him one more
wish.

" I've donetwo to-dayalready," it grumbled,

" and one was as stiff a bit of work as ever I
did."

" Oh, do, do, do, do, do!" said Robert,while

Jakin looked on with an expressionof open-
173
 FIVE CHILDREN AND IT

mouthed horror at the strange beast that

talked, and gazed with its snail's eyesat him.
" Well, what is it? " snappedthe Psammead,
with cross sleepiness.
" I wish I waswith the others," said Robert.
And the Psammead began to swell. Robert
never thought of wishing the castle and the
siegeaway. Of coursehe knew they had all
come out of a wish, but swords and daggers
and pikes and lances seemed much too real to
be wished away. Robert lost consciousness
for an instant. When he openedhis eyesthe
others were crowding round him.
"We never heard you come in," they said.
" How awfully jolly of you to wish it to give
us our wish!"
" Of course we understood that was what

you'd done."
" But you ought to have told us. Suppose
we'd wished somethingsilly."
"'Silly?" said Robert, very crossly indeed.
" How much sillier could you have been,I'd
like to know? You nearly settled me-I can
tell you."
174
"Oh, do, do, <&/" said Robert
 A CASTLE AND NO DINNER

Then he told his story, and the others ad-

mitted that it certainly had beenrough onhim.
But they praised his courage and cleverness
so much that he presently got back his lost
temper, and felt braver than ever, and
consented +o be captain of the besieged
force.

"We haven'tdone anythingyet," said Anthea

comfortably; "we waited for you. We're
going to shoot at them through these little
loopholeswith the bow and arrows uncle gave
you, and you shall have first shot."
" I don't think I would," said Robert cau-
tiously; "you don't know what they're like
near to. They've got real bows and arrows-
an awful length-and swords and pikes and
daggers,and all sorts of sharp things. They're
all quite, quite real. It's not just a-a picture,
or a vision or anything; they can hurt us-or
kill us even, I shouldn't wonder. I can feel
my ear all sore yet. Look here-have you
explored the castle? Because I think we'd
better let them alone as long as they let us
alone. I heard that Jakin man saytheyweren't
175
 FIVE CHILDREN AND IT

going to attack till just before sundown. We

can be getting readyfor the attack. Are there
any soldiers in the castle to defend it?"
"We don't know," said Cyril. "You see,
directly I'd wished we were in a besieged
castle, everything seemed to go upside down,
and when it came straight we looked out of
the window, and saw the camp and things and
you-and of course we kept on looking at
everything. Isn't this room jolly? It's as
real as real!"

It was. It was square,with stonewalls four

feet thick, and great beams for ceiling. A
low door at the corner led to a flight of steps,
up and down. The children went down;
they found themselvesin a great arched gate-
house-the enormous doors were shut and
barred. There was a window in a little room
at the bottom of the round turret up which the
stair wound, rather larger than the other win-
dows,and looking through it theysaw that the
drawbridge was up and the portcullis down;
the moat looked very wide and deep. Opposite
the great door that led to the moat was another
176
 A CASTLE AND NO DINNER

great door, with a little door in it. The chil-

dren went through this, and found themselves
in a big courtyard, with the great grey walls
of the castlerising dark and heavy on all four
sides.

Near the middle of the courtyard stood

Martha, moving her right hand backwards
and forwards in the air. The cook was stoop-
ing down and moving her hands,also in a very
curious way. But the oddest and at the same
time most terrible thing was the Lamb, who
was sitting on nothing, about three feet from
the ground, laughing happily.
The children ran towards him. Just as
Anthea wasreaching out her arms to take him,
Martha said crossly, " Let him alone-do,
miss,when he is good."
"But what's he doing?" said Anthea.
"Doing? Why, a-setting in his high chair
asgood asgold, a precious,watching me doing
of the ironing. Get along with you, do-my
iron's cold again."
She went towards the cook, and seemedto
poke an invisible fire with an unseenpoker-
177
 FIVE CHILDREN AND IT

the cook seemedto be putting an unseendish

into an invisible oven.
" Run along with you, do," she said; " I'm
behindhand asit is. You won't get no dinner
if you come a-hindering of me like this.
Come, off you goes, or I'll pin a discloth to
some of your tails."
"You're sure the Lamb's all right?" asked
Jane anxiously.
" Right as ninepence, if you don't come un-
settling of him. I thought you'd like to be
rid of him for to-day; but take him, if you
want him, for gracious' sake."
"No, no," they said, and hastened away.
They would have to defend the castle pres-
ently, and the Lamb was safer even suspended.
in mid air in an invisible kitchen than in the

guard-room of the besieged castle. They

went through the first doorway they came to,
and sat down helplessly on a wooden bench
that ran along the room inside.
" How awful!" said Anthea and Jane to-
gether; and Jane added," I feel as if I wasin
a lunatic asylum."
178
 A CASTLE AND NO DINNER

"What does it mean?" Anthea said. It's

creepy; I don't like it. I wish we'd wished

for something plain-a rocking-horse, or a
donkey,or something."
" It's no usewishing now/' said Robert bit-
terly; and Cyril said-
" Do be quiet; I want to think."
He buried his face in his hands, and the
others looked about them. They were in a
long room with an arched roof. There were
wooden tables along it, and one across at the
end of the room, on a sort of raised platform.
The roomwas very dim and dark. The floor
was strewn with dry things like sticks, and
they did not smell nice.
Cyril sat up suddenly and said--
" Look here-it's all right. I think it's like
this. You know, we wished that the servants
shouldn't notice any difference when we got
wishes. And nothing happensto the Lamb
unless we specially wish it to. So of course
they don't notice the castleor anything. But
then the castleis on the sameplace where our
house was-is, I mean-and the servants have
179
 FIVE CHILDREN AND IT

to go on being in the house,or elsethey would

notice. But you can't have a castlemixed up
with our house-and sowe can't seethe house,
because we see the castle; and they can't see
the castle,becausethey go on seeingthe house;
"
and so

" Oh, don't," said Jane; "you make my head

go all swimmy, like being on a roundabout.
It doesn't matter! Only, I hope we shall be
able to seeour dinner, that's all-because if it's
invisible it'll be unfeelable as well, and then
we can't eat it! I know it will, because I tried
to feel if I could feel the Lamb's chair and
there was nothing under him at all but air.
And we can't eat air, and I feel just as if I
hadn't had any breakfast for years and
years."
" It's no use thinking about it," said Anthea.
" Let's go on exploring. Perhaps we might
find something to eat."
This lighted hope in every breast, and they
went on exploring the castle. But though it
was the most perfect and delightful castle you
can possibly imagine, and furnished in the
180
 A CASTLE AND NO DINNER

most complete and beautiful manner, neither

food nor men-at-arms were to be found in it.
" If you'd only thought of wishing to be be-
sieged in a castle thoroughly garrisoned and
provisioned!" said Jane reproachfully.
" You can't think of everything, you know,"
said Anthea. " I should think it must be

nearly dinner-time by now."

It wasn't; but they hung about watching the
strange movements of the servants in the mid-
dle of the courtyard, because, of course, they
couldn't be surewhere the dining-room of the
invisible housewas. Presentlythey saw Mar-
tha carrying an invisible tray acrossthe court-
yard, for it seemedthat, by the most fortunate
accident,the dining-room of the houseand the
banqueting-hall of the castlewere in the same
place. But oh, how their hearts sank when
they perceivedthat the tray was invisible!
They waited in wretched silencewhile Mar-
tha went through the form of carving an
unseenleg of mutton and serving invisible
greensand potatoeswith a spoonthat no one
could see. When she had left the room, the
181
 FIVE CHILDREN AND IT

children looked at the empty table, and then

at each other.

" This is worse than anything," said Robert,

who had not till now been particularly keen on
his dinner.

" I'm not so very hungry," said Anthea, try-

ing to make the best of things, as usual.
Cyril tightened his belt ostentatiously. Jane
burst into tears.

182
 CHAPTER VII

A SIEGE AND BED

THE children
were
sitting
inthe
gloomy banqueting-hall,at the end of
one of the long bare wooden tables.
There was now no hope. Martha had brought
in the dinner, and the dinner was invisible, and
unfeelable too; for, when they rubbed their
hands along the table, they knew but too well
that for them there was nothing there but
table.

Suddenly Cyril felt in his pocket.

"Right, oh!" he cried. "Look herel
Biscuits."

Somewhatbroken and crumbled, certainly,

but still biscuits. Three whole ones, and a
generoushandful of crumbsand fragments.
" I got them this morning-cook-and I'd
quite forgotten," he explained as he divided
them with scrupulousfairnessinto four heaps.
183
 FIVE CHILDREN AND IT

They were eaten in a happy silence,though

they had an odd taste,becausethey had been
in Cyril's pocket all the morning with a hank
of tarred twine, some green fir-cones, and a
ball of cobbler's wax.

" Yes, but look here, Squirrel," said Robert;

"you're so clever at explaining about invisi-
bleness and all that. How is it the biscuits are

here, and all the bread and meat and things

have disappeared? "
" I don't know," said Cyril after a pause,
" unlessit's becausewe had them. Nothing
about us has changed. Everything's in my
pocket all right."
"Then if we had the mutton it would be
real," said Robert. " Oh, don't I wish we
could find it!"

" But we can't find it. I supposeit isn't ours

till we've got it in our mouths."
" Or in our pockets," said Jane, thinking of
the biscuits.

"Who puts mutton in their pockets, goose-

girl?" said Cyril. "But I know-at any
rate, I'll try it! "
184
 A SIEGE AND BED

He leaned over the table with his face about

an inch from it, and kept opening and shutting

his mouth as if he were taking bites out of air.
"It's no good," said Robert in deepdejection.
"You'll only Hullo!"
Cyril stood up with a grin of triumph, hold-
ing a square piece of bread in his mouth. It
was quite real. Everyone saw it. It is true
that, directly he bit a piece off, the rest van-
ished; but it wasall right, becausehe knew he
had it in his hand though he could neither see
nor feel it. He took another bite from the air

between his fingers, and it turned into bread as

he bit. The next moment all the others were

following his example, and opening and shut-

ting their mouths an inch or so from the bare-
looking table. Robert captured a slice of
mutton, and-but I think I will draw a veil
over the rest of this painful scene.It is enough
to say that they all had enough mutton, and
that when Martha came to changethe plates
she said she had never seen such a mess in all

her born days.

The pudding was, fortunately, a plain suet
185
 FIVE CHILDREN AND IT

one, and in answer to Martha's questionsthe

children all with one accord said that they
would not have molasseson it-nor jam, nor
sugar-" Just plain, please,"they said. Mar-
tha said, " Well, I never-what next, I won-
der! " and went away.
Then ensued another scene on which I will

not dwell, for nobody looks nice picking up

slices of suet pudding from the table in its
mouth, like a dog.
The great thing, after all, was that they had
had dinner; and now everyone felt more cour-
age to prepare for the attack that was to be
delivered before sunset. Robert, as captain,
insistedon climbing to the top of one of the
towers to reconnoitre, so up they all went.
And now they could see all round the castle,
and could see, too, that beyond the moat, on
every side, tents of the besiegingparty were
pitched. Rather uncomfortable shivers ran
down the children's backsas they saw that all
the menwere very busycleaning or sharpening
their arms, re-stringing their bows,and polish-
ing their shields. A large party came along
186
 A SIEGE AND BED

the road, with horses dragging along the great

trunk of a tree; and Cyril felt quite pale, be-
cause he knew this was for a battering-ram.
"What a good thing we've got a moat," he
said; " and what a good thing the drawbridge
is up-I should never have known how to
work it."

"Of course it would be up in a besieged

castle."

" You'd think there ought to have been sol-

diers in it, wouldn't you?" said Robert.
" You see you don't know how long it's been
besieged,"said Cyril darkly; "perhaps most
of the brave defenders were killed early in the
siege and all the provisions eaten, and now
there are only a few intrepid survivors,-that's
us, and we are going to defend it to the death."
" How do you begin-defending to the death,
I mean?" asked Anthea.

" We ought to be heavily armed-and then

shoot at them when they advance to the
attack."

" They used to pour boiling lead down on

besiegerswhen they got too close," said An-
187
 FIVE CHILDREN AND IT

thea. " Father showed me the holes on pur-

pose for pouring it down through at Bodiam
Castle. And there are holes like it in the
gate-tower here."
" I think I'm glad it's only a game; it is only
a game,isn't it? " said Jane.
But no one answered.

The children found plenty of strange wea-

pons in the castle,and if they were armed at
all it was soon plain that they would be, as
Cyril said,"armed heavily "-for theseswords
and lances and crossbows were far too weighty
even for Cyril's manly strength; and as for
the longbows, none of the children could even
begin to bend them. The daggerswere bet-
ter; but Jane hoped that the besiegerswould
not come close enough for daggers to be of
any use.
"Never mind, we can hurl them like jave-
lins," said Cyril, "or drop them on people's
heads. I say-there are lots of stones on the
other side of the courtyard. If we tooksome
of those up? Just to drop on their headsif
they were to try swimming the moat."
188
 A SIEGE AND BED

So a heap of stones grew apace, up in the

room above the gate; and another heap, a
shiny spiky dangerous-lookingheap, of dag-
gers and knives.
As Anthea was crossing the courtyard for
more stones,a sudden and valuable idea came
to her.

Shewent to Martha and said, " May we have

just biscuits for tea? We're going to play at
besiegedcastles,and we'd like the biscuits to
provision the garrison. Put mine in my
pocket, please, my hands are so dirty. And
I'll tell the others to fetch theirs."

This was indeed a happy thought, for now

with four generous handfuls of air, which
turned to biscuits as Martha crammed it into

their pockets, the garrison was well provi-

sioned till sundown.

They brought up someiron potsof cold water

to pour on the besiegersinstead of hot lead,
with which the castledid not seemto be pro-
vided.

The afternoonpassedwith wonderful quick-

ness. It wasvery exciting; but noneof them,
189
 FIVE CHILDREN AND IT

except Robert, could feel all the time that this

was real deadly dangerous work. To the
others, who had only seen the camp and the
besiegers from a distance, the whole thing
seemedhalf a game of make-believe,and half
a splendidly distinct and perfectly safedream.
But it was only now and then that Robert
could feel this.
When it seemed to be tea-time the biscuits
were eaten, with water from the deep well in
the courtyard, drunk out of horns. Cyril in-
sisted on putting by eight of the biscuits, in
case anyone should feel faint in stress of
battle.

Just as he was putting away the reservebis-

cuits in a sort of little stone cupboard without
a door, a sudden sound made him drop three.
It was the loud fierce cry of a trumpet.
" You seeit is real," said Robert, " and they
are going to attack."
All rushed to the narrow windows.
"Yes," said Robert, "they're all coming
out of their tents and moving about like ants.
There's that Jakin dancing about where the
190
 A SIEGE AND BED

bridge joins on. I wish he could seeme put

my tongue out at him! Yah!"
The others were far too pale to wish to put
their tongues out at anybody. They looked
at Robert with surprised respect. Anthea
said-

" You really are brave, Robert."

"Rot!" Cyril's pallor turned to redness
now, all in a minute. " He's been getting
ready to be brave all the afternoon. And I
wasn't ready, that's all. I shall be braver than
he is in half a jiffy."
" Oh dear!" said Jane, " what doesit matter
which of you is the bravest? I think Cyril
was a perfect silly to wish for a castle, and I
don't want to play."
"It isn't"-Robert was beginning sternly,
but Anthea interrupted-
" Oh yes,you do," she said coaxingly; " it's
a very nice game, really, becausethey can't
possibly get in, and if they do the women and
children are always spared by civilised
armies."

" But are you quite, quite surethey are civil-

191

"
.
 FIVE CHILDREN AND IT

ised?" askedJane, panting. "They seemto

be sucha long time ago."
" Of course they are." Anthea pointed
cheerfully through the narrow window.
" Why, look at the little flags on their lances,
how bright they are-and how fine the leader
is! Look, that's him-isn't it, Robert?-on
the gray horse."
Jane consentedto look, and the scenewas
almost too pretty to be alarming. The green
turf, the white tents, the flash of pennoned
lances, the gleam of armour, and the bright
colours of scarf and tunic-it was just like a
splendid coloured picture. The trumpets
were sounding, and when the trumpeters
stopped for breath the children could hear
the cling-clang of armour and the murmur of
voices.

A trumpeter cameforward to the edgeof the

moat, which now seemedvery much narrower
than at first, and blew the longest and loudest
blast they had yet heard. When the blaring
noisehad died away, a man who waswith the
trumpeter shouted-"
192
 A SIEGE AND BED

"What ho, within there!" and his voice

cameplainly to the garrison in the gatehouse.
"Hullo there!" Robert bellowed back at
once.

" In the name of our Lord the King, and of

our good lord and trusty leader Sir Wulf ric de
Talbot, we summonthis castleto surrender-
on pain of fire and sword and no quarter. Do
ye surrender?"
"No," bawled Robert; "of course we don't!
Never, Never, NEFER!"
The man answered back-

"Then your fate be on your own heads."

" Cheer," said Robert in a fierce whisper.
" Cheer to show them we aren't afraid, and
rattle the daggers to make more noise. One,
two, three! Hip, hip, hooray! Again-Hip,
hip, hooray! One more-Hip, hip, hooray!"
The cheerswere rather high and weak, but
the rattle of the daggers lent them strength
and depth.
There was another shout from the camp
acrossthe moat-and then the beleaguered
fortress felt that the attack had indeed begun.
193
 FIVE CHILDREN AND IT

It was getting rather dark in the room above

the great gate, and Jane took a very little cour-
age as sherememberedthat sunsetcouldn't be
far off now.

" The moat is dreadfully thin," said Anthea.

"But they can't get into the castle even if
they do swim over," said Robert. And as he
spokehe heard feet on the stair outside-heavy
feet and the clang of steel. No one breathed
for a moment. The steel and the feet went on
up the turret stairs. Then Robert sprang
softly to the door. He pulled off his shoes.
"Wait here," he whispered, and stole
quickly and softly after the bootsand the spur-
clank. He peepedinto the upper room. The
man wasthere-and it wasJakin, all dripping
with moat-water, and he was fiddling about
with the machinery which Robert felt sure
worked the drawbridge. Robert banged the
door suddenly,and turned the great key in the
lock, just as Jakin sprang to the inside of
the door. Then he tore downstairs and
into the little turret at the foot of the tower
where the biggest window was.
194
 A SIEGE AND BED

" We ought to have defendedthis!" he cried

to the othersas they followed him. He was
just in time. Another man had swum over,
and his fingers were on the window-ledge.
Robert never knew how the man had managed
to climb up out of the water. But he saw the
clinging fingers, and hit them as hard as he
could with an iron bar that he caught up from
the floor. The man fell with a splashinto the
moat-water. In another moment Robert was

outside the little room, had banged its door

and was shooting home the enormous bolts,
and calling to Cyril to lend a hand.
Then they stood in the arched gate-house,
breathing hard and looking at each other.
Jane's mouth was open.
" Cheer up, Jenny," said Robert,-" it won't
last much longer."
There was a creaking above,and something
rattled and shook. The pavementthey stood
on seemed to tremble. Then a crash told them
that the drawbridge had been lowered to its
place.
"That's that beast Jakin," said Robert.
195
 FIVE CHILDREN AND IT

" There's still the portcullis; I'm almost cer-

tain that's worked from lower down."
And now the drawbridge rang and echoed
hollowly to the hoofs of horsesand the tramp
of armed men.

"Up-quick!" cried Robert,-"let's drop

things on them."
Even the girls were feeling almost brave
now. They followed Robert quickly, and
under his directions began to drop stonesout
through the long narrow windows. There
was a confused noise below, and some
groans.

"Oh dear!" said Anthea, putting down the

stone she was just going to drop out, " I'm
afraid we've hurt somebody!"
Robert caught up the stonein a fury.
"I should hope we had!" he said; "I'd
give somethingfor a jolly good boiling kettle
of lead. Surrender, indeed!"
And now came more tramping and a pause,
and then the thundering thump of the batter-
ing-ram. And the little room wasalmost pitch
dark.

196
The man fell with a splash into the
moat-water
 A SIEGE AND BED

" We've held it," cried Robert, " we won't

surrender! The sun must set in a minute.

Here-they're all jawing underneath again.

Pity there'sno time to get more stones! Here,
pour that water down on them. It's no good,
of course, but they'll hate it."
" Oh dear!" said Jane," don't you think we'd
better surrender?"

" Never!" said Robert; " we'H have a parley

if you like, but we'll never surrender. Oh, I'll
be a soldier when I grow up-you just seeif I
don't. I won't go into the Civil Service,
whatever anyone says."
" Let's wave a handkerchief and ask for a
parley," Jane pleaded. " I don't believe the
sun'sgoing to set to-night at all."
"Give them the water first--the brutes!"
said the bloodthirsty Robert. So Anthea
tilted the pot over the nearest lead-hole, and
poured. They heard a splashbelow, but no
one below seemedto have felt it. And again
the ram battered the great door. Anthea
paused.
" How idiotic," said Robert, lying flat on the
197
 FIVE CHILDREN AND IT

floor and putting one eye to the lead-hole.

" Of course the holes go straight down into the
gate-house-that's
for whentheenemyhasgot
past the door and the portcullis, and almost all
is lost. Here, hand me the pot." He crawled
on to the three-corneredwindow-ledge in the
middle of the wall, and, taking the pot from
Anthea, poured the water out through the
arrow-slit.

And as he beganto pour, the noiseof the bat-

tering-ram and the trampling of the foe and
the shouts of " Surrender!" and " De Talbot
for ever!" all suddenly stopped and went out
like the snuff of a candle; the little dark room
seemedto whirl round and turn topsy-turvy,
and when the children came to themselves
there they were, safe and sound, in the big
front bedroom of their own house-the house

with the ornamentalnightmare iron-top to the

roof.

They all crowded to the window and looked

out. The moat and the tents and the besieg-
ing force were all gone-and there was the
garden with its tangle of dahlias and mari-
Anthea tilted the pot over the nearest
lead-hole
 A SIEGE AND BED

golds and astersand later roses,and the spiky

iron railings and the quiet white road.
Everyonedrew a deepbreath.
"And that's all right!" said Robert. "I
told you so! And, I say, we didn't surrender,
did we?"

" Aren't you glad now I wished for a castle?"

asked Cyril.
" I think I am now," said Anthea slowly.
" But I wouldn't wish for it again, I think,
Squirrel dearl"
"Oh, it was simply splendid 1" said Jane
unexpectedly. " I wasn't frightened a bit."
" Oh, I say!" Cyril was beginning, but An-
thea stopped him.
" Look here," she said, " it's just come into
my head. This is the very first thing we've
wished for that hasn't got us into a row. And
there hasn'tbeenthe least little scrap of a row
about this. Nobody's raging downstairs,
we're safe and sound, we've had an awfully
jolly day-at least,not jolly exactly, but you
know what I mean. And we know now how
brave Robert is-and Cyril too, of course,"
199
 FIVE CHILDREN AND IT

she added hastily, " and Jane as well. And

we haven't got into a row with a single grown-
up."
The door was openedsuddenly and fiercely.
" You ought to be ashamedof yourselves,"
said the voice of Martha, and they could tell
by her voice that shewas very angry indeed.
" I thought you couldn't last through the day
without getting up to somemischief! A per-
son can't take a breath of air on the frontdoor-
stepbut you must be emptying the water jug
on their heads! Off you go to bed, the lot of
you, and try to get up better children in the
morning. Now then-don't let me have to
tell you twice. If I find any of you not in bed
in ten minutes I'll let you know it, that's all!
A new cap, and everything!"
She flouncedout amid a disregardedchorus
of regrets and apologies. The children were
very sorry, but really it was not their
faults.

You can't help it if you are pouring water on

a besieging foe, and your castle suddenly
changes into your house-and everything
200
 A SIEGE AND BED

changeswith it exceptthe water, and that hap-

pensto fall on somebodyelse'scleancap.
" I don't know why the water didn't change
into nothing, though," said Cyril.
"Why should it?" asked Robert. " Water's
water all the world over."
" I expectthe castlewell wasthe sameasours
in the stable-yard,"said Jane. And that was
really the case.
" I thought we couldn't get through a wish-
day without a row," said Cyril; " it was much
too good to be true. Come on, Bobs, my mil-
itary hero. If we lick into bed sharp she
won't be so furious, and perhaps she'll bring
us up somesupper. I'm jolly hungry! Good-
night, kids."
" Good-night. I hope the castlewon't come
creeping back in the night," said Jane.
"Of course it won't," said Anthea briskly,
" but Martha will-not in the night, but in a
minute. Here, turn round, I'll get that knot
out of your pinafore strings."
"Wouldn't it have been degrading for Sir
Wulfric de Talbot," said Jane dreamily, " if
201
 FIVE CHILDREN AND IT

he could have known that half the besieged

garrisonwore pinafores?"
" And the other half knickerbockers. Yes-
frightfully. Do standstill-you're onlytight-
eningthe knot,"saidAnthea.

202
 CHAPTER VIII

BIGGER THAN THE BAKER'S BOY

E)Khere,"
said
Cyril.
"I've
got
an
idea."
"Does it hurt much?" said Robert

sympathetically.
"Don't be a jackanape! I'm not humbug-
ging-"
" Shut up, Bobs!" said Anthea.
" Silence for the Squirrel's oration," said
Robert.

Cyril balanced himself on the edge of the

water-butt in the backyard, where they all hap-
pened to be, and spoke.
"Friends, Romans,countrymen-and women
-we found a Sammyadd. We have had
wishes. We've had wings, and being beau-
tiful as the day-ugh!-that was pretty jolly
beastly if you like-and wealth and castles,
203
 FIVE CHILDREN AND IT

and that rotten gipsy business with the Lamb.

But we're no forrarder. We haven'treally
got anything worth having for our wishes."
" We'vehadthingshappening,"saidRobert;
" that's always something."
" It's not enough,unlessthey're the right
things," said Cyril firmly. " Now I've been
thinking "-
" Not really? " whispered Robert.
" In the silent what's-its-namesof the night.
It's like suddenly being asked somethingout
of history-the date of the Conquestor some-
thing; you know it all right all the time, but
when you're askedit all goesout of your head.
Ladies and gentlemen, you know jolly well
that when we're all rotting about in the usual
way heaps of things keep cropping up, and
then real earnest wishes come into the heads of
the beholder"-

" Hear, hear!" said Robert.

" -of the beholder,however,stupid he is,"
Cyril went on. "Why, even Robert might
happen to think of a really useful wish if he
didn't injure his poor little brains trying so
204
BIGGER THAN THE BAKER'S BOY

hard to think.-Shut up, Bobs, I tell you!-

You'll have the whole show over."
A struggle on the edge of a water-butt is ex-
citing but damp. When it was over, and the
boyswere partially dried, Anthea said-
" It really was you began it, Bobs. Now
honour is satisfied, do let Squirrel go on.
We're wasting the whole morning."
"Well then," said Cyril, still wringing the
water out of the tails of his jacket, " I'll call
it pax if Bobs will."
" Pax then," said Robert sulkily. " But I've
got a lump as big as a cricket ball over my
eye."
Anthea patiently offered a dust-coloured
handkerchief, and Robert bathed his wounds
in silence. "Now, Squirrel," she said.
" Well then-let's just play bandits, or forts,
or soldiers, or any of the old games. We're
dead sure to think of somethingif we try not
to. You always do."
The others consented. Bandits was hastily
chosen for the game. " It's as good as any-
thing else," said Jane gloomily. It must be
205
 FIVE CHILDREN AND IT

owned that Robert was at first but a half-

hearted bandit, but when Anthea had bor-
rowed from Martha the red-spotted handker-
chief in which the keeper had brought her
mushroomsthat morning, and had tied up
Robert's head with it so that he could be the
woundedherowho had savedthe banditcap-
tain's life the day before, he cheeredup won-
derfully. All were soon armed. Bows and
arrows slung on the back look well; and um-
brellas and cricket stumps through the belt
give a fine impression of the wearer's being
armed to the teeth. The white cotton hats

that men wear in the country nowadayshave

a very brigandish effect when a few turkey's
feathers are stuck in them. The Lamb's
mail-cart was covered with a red-and-blue
checked table-cloth, and made an admirable
baggage-wagon.The Lamb asleep inside
it was not at all in the way. So the banditti
setout alongthe roadthat led to the sand-pit.
" We ought to be nearthe Sammyadd," said
Cyril, " in casewe think of anythingsud-
denly."
206
BIGGER THAN THE BAKER'S BOY

It is all very well to make up your minds to

play bandit-or chess,or ping-pong, or any
other agreeablegame-but it is not easyto do
it with spirit when all the wonderful wishes
you canthink of, or can't think of, are waiting
for you round thecorner. The gamewasdrag-
ging a little, and some of the bandits were
beginning to feel that the others were disagree-
ablethings, and were sayingso candidly, when
the baker's boy came along the road with
loaves in a basket. The opportunity was not
one to be lost.

"Stand and deliver!" cried Cyril.

" Your moneyor your life! " said Robert.
And they stood on each side of the baker's
boy. Unfortunately, he did not seemto enter
into the spirit of the thing at all. He was a
baker's boy of an unusually large size. He
merely said-"
" Chuck it now, d'ye hear!" and pushedthe
bandits asidemost disrespectfully.
Then Robert lassoedhim with Jane's skip-
ping-rope, and instead of going round his
shoulders,as Robert intended, it went round
207
 FIVE CHILDREN AND IT

his feet and tripped him up. The basketwas

upset,the beautiful newloaveswentbumping
and bouncing all over the dusty chalky road.
The girls ran to pick them up, and all in a
momentRobertandthebaker'sboywerefight-
ing it out, man to man, with Cyril to seefair
play, and the skipping-rope twisting round
their legs like an interesting snakethat wished
to be a peace-maker. It did not succeed;in-
deed the way the boxwood handlessprangup
and hit the fighters on the shins and ankles
was not at all peace-making. I know this is
the secondfight-or contest-in this chapter,
but I can't help it. It was that sort of day.
You know yourself there are days when rows
seem to keep on happening, quite without
your meaning them to. If I were a writer of
tales of adventure such as those which used to
appear in The Boys of England when I was
young of course I should be. able to describe
the fight, but I cannot do it. I never cansee
what happensduring a fight, evenwhenit is
only dogs. Also, if I had been one of these
Boys of England writers, Robert would have
208
BIGGER THAN THE BAKER'S BOY

got the best of it. But I am like George

Washington-I cannottell a lie, even about a
cherry-tree,much lessabouta fight, and I can-
not conceal from you that Robert was badly
beaten, for the second time that day. The
baker's boy blacked his other eye, and being
ignorant of the first rules of fair play and gen-
tlemanly behaviour, he also pulled Robert's
hair, and kicked him on the knee. Robert
always used to say he could have licked the
baker if it hadn't been for the girls. But I
am not sure. Anyway, what happened was
this, and very painful it was to self-respect-
ing boys.
Cyril wasjust tearing off his coatso asto help
his brother in proper style, when Jane threw
her arms round his legs and beganto cry and
ask him not to go and be beaten too. That
" too" was very nice for Robert, as you can
imagine-but it was nothing to what he felt
when Anthea rushed in between him and the
baker's boy, and caught that unfair and de-
gradedfighter round the waist, imploring him
not to fight any more.
209
 FIVE CHILDREN AND IT

" Oh, don't hurt my brother any more!"

she said in floods of tears. " He didn't mean
it-it's only play. And I'm sure he'svery
sorry."
You see how unfair this was to Robert.
Because,
if the baker'sboyhad had anyright
and chivalrous instincts, and had yielded to
Anthea's pleading and accepted her despic-
able apology, Robert could not, in honour,
have done anything to him at any future
time. But Robert's fears, if he had any,
were soon dispelled. Chivalry was a stran-
ger to the breast of the baker's boy. He
pushed Anthea away very roughly, and he
chased Robert with kicks and unpleasant
conversationright down the road to the sand-
pit, and there, with one last kick, he landed
him in a heap of sand.
" I'll larn you, you young varmint!" he said,
and went off to pick up his loavesand go about
his business. Cyril, impeded by Jane, could
do nothing without hurting her, for sheclung
round his legs with the strength of despair.
The baker'sboy went off red and damp about
210
He pulled Robert's hair
BIGGER THAN THE BAKER'S BOY

the face; abusiveto the last, he called them a

pack of silly idiots, and disappeared round the
corner. Then Jane's grasp loosened. Cyril
turned away in silent dignity to follow Robert,
and the girls followed him, weeping without
restraint.

It was not a happy party that flung itself

down in the sand beside the sobbing Robert.
For Robert was sobbing-mostly with rage.
Though of course I know that a really heroic
boy is always dry-eyed after a fight. But then
he always wins, which had not beenthe case
with Robert.

Cyril wasangry with Jane; Robert wasfuri-

ouswith Anthea; the girls were miserable;and
not one of the four was pleased with the
baker's boy. There was, as French writers
"
say, a silence full of emotion."

Then Robert dug his toesand his handsinto

the sand and wriggled in his rage. " He'd
better wait till I'm grown up-the cowardly
brute! Beast!-I hate him! But I'll pay
him out. Just becausehe's bigger than
me."

211
 FIVE CHILDREN AND IT

" You began," said Jane incautiously.

" I know I did, silly-but I wasonly jolly-
ing-and he kicked me-look here"-
Robert tore down a stocking and showeda
purple bruise touched up with red.
" I only wish I was bigger than him, that's
all."
He dug his fingers in the sand, and sprang
up, for his hand had touched somethingfurry.
It was the Psammead, of course-"On the
look-out to make sillies of them as usual," as
Cyril remarked later. And of course the
next moment Robert's wish was granted, and
he was bigger than the baker's boy. Oh, but
much, much bigger! He was bigger than the
big policeman who used to be at the crossing
at the Mansion House years ago,-the one
who wasso kind in helping old ladies over the
crossing,-and he was the biggest man I have
ever seen,aswell as the kindest. No one had
a foot-rule in its pocket, so Robert could not
be measured-but he was taller than your
father would be if he stood on your mother's
head,which I am sure he would neverbe un-
212
BIGGER THAN THE BAKER'S BOY

kind enough to do. He must have been ten

or eleven feet high, and as broad as a boy of
that height ought to be. His suit had fortu-
nately grown too, and now he stoodup in it-
with one of his enormous stockings turned
down to show the gigantic bruise on his vast
leg. Immense tears of fury still stood on his
flushed giant face. He looked so surprised,
and he was so large to be wearing a turned
down collar outside of his jacket that the
others could not help laughing.
" The Sammyadd's done us again," said
Cyril.
"Not us-me" said Robert. " If you'd got
any decent feeling you'd try to make it make
you the same size. You've no idea how silly
it feels," he addedthoughtlessly.
"And I don't want to; I can jolly well see
how silly it looks," Cyril was beginning; but
Anthea said-

" Oh, don't! I don't know what's the matter

with you boys to-day. Look here, Squirrel,
let's play fair. It is hateful for poor old Bobs,
all aloneup there. Let's ask the Sammyadd
213
 FIVE CHILDREN AND IT

for anotherwish,and,if it will, I do really

think we ought all to be made the same
size."
The others agreed,but not gaily; but when
they found the Psammead,it wouldn't.
" Not I," it said crossly,rubbing its facewith
its feet. " He's a rude violent boy, and it'll do
him good to be the wrong size for a bit. What
did he want to come digging me out with his
nastywet hands for? He nearly touchedme!
He's a perfect savage. A boy of the Stone
Age would have had more sense."
Robert's hands had indeed been wet-with
tears.

" Go away and leave me in peace,do," the

Psammead went on. " I can't think why you
don't wish for something sensible-something
to eat or drink, or good manners, or good
tempers. Go along with you, do!"
It almost snarled as it shook its whiskers,
and turned a sulky brown back on them. The
most hopeful felt that further parley was
vain.

They turned again to the colossalRobert.

214
" The Sammyadd's
doneus again,"said Cyril
BIGGER THAN THE BAKER'S BOY

"What ever shall we do?" they said; and

they all said it.
" First," said Robert grimly, " I'm going to
reason with that baker's boy. I shall catch
him at the end of the road."

" Don't hit a chap smaller than yourself, old

man," said Cyril.
" Do I look like hitting him? " said Robert
scornfully. "Why, I should kill him. But
I'll give him something to remember. Wait
till I pull up my stocking." He pulled up
his stocking, which was as large as a small
bolster-case, and strode off. His strides
were six or seven feet long, so that it was quite
easy for him to be at the bottom of the hill,
ready to meet the baker's boy when he came
down swinging the empty basket to meet his
master's cart, which had been leaving bread
at the cottages along the road.
Robert crouched behind a haystack in the
farmyard, that is at the corner, and when
he heard the boy come whistling along he
jumped out at him and caught him by the
collar.

215
 FIVE CHILDREN AND IT

" Now," he said, and his voice was about

four times its usual size, just as his body was
four times its, " I'm going to teach you to kick
boys smaller than you."
He lifted up the baker's boy and set him on
the top of the haystack,which was aboutsix-
teen feet from the ground, and then he sat
down on the roof of the barn and told the
baker's boy exactly what he thought of him.
I don't think the boy heard it all-he was in a
sort of trance of terror. When Robert had
said everything he could think of, and some
things twice over, he shook the boy and
said--

" And now get down the best way you can,"
and left him.

I don't know how the baker's boy got down,

but I do know that he missed the cart and got
into the very hottest of hot water when he
turned up at last at the bakehouse. I amsorry
for him, but after all, it was quite right that
he should be taught that boysmustn't usetheir
feet when they fight, but their fists. Of
coursethe water he got into only becamehot-
216
He lifted up the baker'sboy and set him on
top of the haystack
BIGGER THAN THE BAKER'S BOY

ter when he tried to tell his master about the

boy he had licked and the giant as high as a

church, because no one could possibly believe
such a tale as that. Next day the tale was
believed-but that was too late to be of any
use to the baker's boy.
When Robert rejoined the others he found
them in the garden. Anthea had thought-
fully asked Martha to let them have dinner
out there-because the dining-room was
rather small, and it would have been so awk-
ward to have a brother the size of Robert in

there. The Lamb, who had slept peacefully

during the whole stormy morning, was now
found to be sneezing,and Martha said he had
a cold and would be better indoors.

"And really it's just as well," said Cyril,

" for I don't believe he'd ever have stopped
screamingif he'd once seen you, the awful
size you are!"
Robertwas indeedwhat a draper would call
an "out-size" in boys. He found himself
able to step right over the iron gate in the
front garden.
217
 FIVE CHILDREN AND IT

Martha brought out the dinner-it wascold

veal and bakedpotatoes,with sagopudding
and stewed plums to follow.
She of course did not notice that Robert was
anything but the usual size, and she gavehim
as much meat and potatoes as usual and no
more. You have no idea how small your
usual helping of dinner looks when you are
many times your proper size. Robert groaned,
and asked for more bread. But Martha

would not go on giving more bread for

ever. Shewas in a hurry, becausethe keeper
intended to call on his way to Benenhurst
Fair, and she wished to be smartly dressed
before he came.

" I wish we were going to the Fair," said

Robert.

" You can't go anywhere that size," said

Cyril.
"Why not?" said Robert. "They have
giants at fairs, much bigger onesthan me."
" Not much, they don't," Cyril was begin-
ning, when Jane screamed" Oh!" with such
loud suddennessthat they all thumped her on
218
BIGGER THAN THE BAKER'S BOY

the back and asked whether she had swal-

lowed a plum-stone.
"No," she said, breathless from being
thumped, " it's-it's not a plum-stone. It's
an idea. Let's take Robert to the Fair, and
get them to give us money for showing him!
Then we really shall get something out of the
old Sammyaddat last!"
"Take me, indeed!" said Robert indig-
nantly. "Much more likely me take you!"
And so it turned out. The idea appealed
irresistibly to everyone but Robert, and even
he was brought round by Anthea's suggestion
that he should have a double share of any
moneythey might make. There was a little
old pony-cart in the coach-house-the kind
that is called a governess-cart. It seemed
desirableto get to the Fair as quickly as pos-
sible, so Robert-who could now take enor-
mous steps and so go very fast indeed-
consented to wheel the others in this. It was

as easy to him now as wheeling the Lamb in

the mail-cart had beenin the morning. The
Lamb's cold preventedhis being of the party.
219
 FIVE CHILDREN AND IT

It was a strange sensationbeing wheeledin

a pony-carriage by. a giant. Everyone en-
joyed the journey except Robert and the few
peopletheypassedon the way. Thesemostly
went into what looked like some kind of stand-
ing-up fits by the .roadside, as Anthea said.
JustoutsideBenenhurst,
Roberthid in a barn,
and the others went on to the Fair.

There were someswings,and a hooting-

tooting blaring merry-go-round, and a shoot-
ing-gallery and Aunt Sallies. Resisting an
impulse to win a cocoanut,-or at least to at-
tempt the enterprise,-Cyril went up to the
woman who was loading little guns beforethe
array of glassbottles on strings againsta sheet
of canvas.

" Here you are, little gentleman!" shesaid.

"Penny a shot!"
"No, thank you," said Cyril, "we are here
on business, not on pleasure. Who's the
master? "

"The what?"
" The master-the head-the boss of the
show."
220
It wasa strange
sensation
being
a pony-carriage
by a gia
BIGGER THAN THE BAKER'S

" Over there," she said, pointing to a stout

man in a dirty linen jacket who was sleeping
in the sun; " but I don't advise you to wake
him sudden. His temper's contrairy, especi-
ally these hot days. Better have a shot while
you'rewaiting."
"It's rather important," said Cyril. "It'll
be very profitable to him. I think he'll be
sorry if we take it away."
" Oh, if it's money in his pocket," said the
woman. "No kid now? What is it? "
" It's a giant."
" You are kidding? "
" Come along and see," said Anthea.
The woman looked doubtfully at them, then
she called to a ragged little girl in striped
stockings and a dingy white petticoat that
camebelow her brown frock, and leaving her
in charge of the " shooting-gallery" she
turned to Anthea and said, "Well, hurry up!
But if you are kidding, you'd bestsay so. I'm
asmild asmilk myself, but my Bill he's a fair
terror and"-

Anthea led the way to the barn. " It really

221
 FIVE CHILDREN AND IT

is a giant," shesaid. " He's a giant little boy

-in a suit like my brother's there. And we
didn't bring him up to the Fair because
people
do stare so, and they seemto go into kind of
standing-up fits when they seehim. And we
thought perhaps you'd like to show him
and get pennies; and if you like to pay us
something, you can-only, it'll have to be
rather a lot, becausewe promised him he
should have a double share of whatever we
made."

The woman murmured something indistinct,

of which the children could only hear the
words, " Swelp me!" "balmy," and "crum-
pet," which conveyedno definite idea to their
minds.

Shehad taken Anthea's hand, and was hold-

ing it very firmly; and Anthea could not help
wondering what would happen if Robert
should have wandered off or turned his proper
size during the interval. But she knew that
the Psammead'sgifts really did last till sunset,
however inconvenient their lasting might be;
and she did not think, somehow,that Robert
222
BIGGER THAN THE BAKER'S BOY

would care to go out alone while he was that

size.

When they reached the barn and Cyril

called " Robert!" there was a stir among the
loose hay, and Robert began to come out.
His hand and arm came first-then a foot and
leg. When the woman sawthe hand shesaid
" My!" but when she saw the foot she said
"Upon my word!" and when, by slow and
heavy degrees,the whole of Robert's enor-
mous bulk was at last disclosed, she drew a
long breath and began to say many things,
compared with which "balmy" and "crum-
pet" seemedquite ordinary. She dropped
into understandable English at last.
"What'll you take for him?" she said ex-
citedly. "Anything in reason. We'd have
a special van built-leastways, I know where
there's a second-hand one would do up hand-
some-what a baby elephant had, as died.
What'll you take? He's soft, ain't he? Them
giants mostly is-but I never see-no, never!
What'll you take? Down on the nail. We'll
treat him like a king, and give him first-rate
223
 FIVE CHILDREN AND IT

grub and a dossfit for a bloomin' dook. He

must be dotty or he wouldn't need you kids
to cart him about. What'll you take for
him?"
"They won't take anything," said Robert
sternly. " I'm no more soft than you are-
not so much, I shouldn't wonder. I'll come
and be a show for to-day if you'll give me,"-
he hesitated at the enormous price he was
about to ask,-" if you'll give me fifteen shil-
lings."
" Done," said the woman, so quickly that
Robert felt he had beenunfair to himself, and
wished he had asked thirty. " Come on now
-and see my Bill-and we'll fix a price for
the season. I dessayyou might get as much
as two pounds a week reg'lar. Come on-
and make yourself as small as you can for
gracious' sake!"
This was not very small, and a crowd gath-
ered quickly, so that it was at the head of an
enthusiastic procession that Robert entered
the trampled meadow where the Fair was
held, and passedover the stubby yellow dusty
224
BIGGER THAN THE BAKER'S BOY

grassto the door of the biggesttent. He

crept in, and the woman went to call her Bill.
He was the big sleeping man, and he did not
seemat all pleasedat being awakened. Cyril,
watching through a slit in the tent, saw him
scowland shakea heavy fist and a sleepyhead.
Then the woman went on speaking very fast.
Cyril heard " Strewth," and " biggest draw
you ever,so help me! " and he beganto share
Robert's feeling that fifteen shillings was
indeed far too little. Bill slouched up to the
tent and entered. When he beheld the mag-
nificent proportions of Robert he said but
little,-" Strike me pink! " were the only
words the children could afterwards remem-
ber,-but he produced fifteen shillings,
mainly in sixpencesand coppers, and handed
it to Robert.
" We'll fix up about what you're to draw
whenthe show's over to-night," he said with
hoarseheartiness. "Lor' love a duck! you'll
be that happy with us you'll never want to
leaveus. Can you do a songnow-or a bit of
a breakdown?"
225
 FIVE CHILDREN AND IT

"Not to-day," said Robert, rejecting theidea

of trying to sing " As once in May," a favour-
ite of his mother's, and the only song he could
think of at the moment.

" Get Levi and clear them bloomin' photos

out. Clear the tent. Stick out a curtain or
suthink," the man went on. " Lor', what a
pity we ain't got no tights his size! But we'll
have'em beforethe week'sout. Youngman,
your fortune'smade. It's a good thingyou
came to me, and not to somechaps as I could
tell you on. I've known blokes as beat their
giants, and starved 'em too; so I'll tell you
straight, you're in luck this day if you never
was afore. 'Cos I'm a lamb, I am-and I
don't deceiveyou."
" I'm not afraid of anyonebeating me," said
Robert, looking down on the " lamb." Robert
was crouched on his knees, because the tent
was not big enough for him to stand upright
in, but evenin that positionhe couldstill look
down on most people. " But I'm awfully
hungry-I wish you'd get me somethingto
eat."
226
BIGGER THAN THE BAKER'S BOY

" Here, 'Becca,"said the hoarseBill. " Get

him somegrub-the best you've got, mind! "
Another whisper followed, of which the chil-
dren only heard, " Down in black and white
-first thing to-morrow."
Then the woman went to get the food-it was
only bread and cheesewhen it came,but it was
delightful to the large and empty Robert; and
the man went to post sentinels round the tent,
to give the alarm if Robert should attempt to
escapewith his fifteen shillings.
"As if we weren't honest," said Anthea
indignantly when the meaning of the sentinels
dawned on her.

Then began a very strange and wonderful

afternoon.
Bill was a man who knew his business. In
a very little while, the photographic views,
the spyglassesyou look at them through so
that theyreally seemrather real, and the lights
you seethem by, were all packed away. A
curtain-it was an old red-and-black carpet
really-was run across the tent. Robert was
concealedbehind, and Bill was standingon a
227
 FIVE CHILDREN AND IT

trestle-table outside the tent making a speech.

It was rather a good speech. It beganby
sayingthat the giant it was his privilege to
introduce to the public that day was the eldest
son of the Emperor of San Francisco, com-
pelled through an unfortunate love affair with
the Duchess of the Fiji Islands to leave his
own country and take refuge in England-
the land of liberty-where freedom was the
right of every man, no matter how big he was.
It ended by the announcementthat the first
twenty who came to the tent door should see
the giant for threepence apiece. "After
that," said Bill, " the price is riz, and I don't
undertake to say what it won't be riz to. So
now's yer time."
A young man with his sweetheart on her
afternoon out was the first to come forward.
For this occasionhis was the princely attitude
-no expensespared-money no object. His
girl wishedto seethe giant? Well, sheshould
seethe giant, eventhough seeingthe giant cost
threepence each and the other entertainments
were all penny ones.
228
Whenthegirl cameout shewaspale
and trembling
BIGGER THAN THE BAKER'S BOY

The flap of the tent was raised-the couple

entered. Next moment a wild shriek from

the girl thrilled through all present. Bill

slapped his leg. "That's done the trick!"
he whispered to 'Becca. It was indeed a
splendid advertisement of the charms of
Robert.

When the young girl came out she was pale

and trembling, and a crowd was round the
tent.

"What was it like? " asked a farm-hand.

"Oh!-horrid!-you wouldn't believe," she
said. " It's as big as a barn, and that fierce.
It froze the blood in my bones. I wouldn't
ha' missedseeingit for anything."
The fiercenesswas only causedby Robert's
trying not to laugh. But the desireto do that
soon left him, and before sunset he was more
inclined to cry than laugh, and more inclined
to sleepthan either. For, by ones and twos
and threes,peoplekept coming in all the after-
noon, and Robert had to shake hands with
thosewho wished it, and to allow himself to
be punched and pulled and patted and
229
 FIVE CHILDREN AND IT

thumped, so that people might make sure he

was really real.
The other children sat on a bench and
watched and waited, and were very bored in-
deed. It seemed to them that this was the
hardestway of earning money that could have
been invented. And only fifteen shillings!
Bill had taken four times that already, for the
news of the giant had spread, and trades-
people in carts, and gentlepeoplein carriages,
came from far and near. One gentleman
with an eyeglass,and a very large yellow rose
in his buttonhole, offered Robert, in an oblig-
ing whisper, ten pounds a week to appearat
the Crystal Palace. Robert had to say" No."
" I can't," he said regretfully. " It's no use
promising what you can't do."
" Ah, poor fellow, bound for a term of years,
I suppose! Well, here'smy card; when your
time's up come to me."
"I will-if I'm the same size then," said
Robert truthfully.
" If yougrow a bit, somuchthe better,"said
the gentleman.
230
 \.-."'""""""
'-"-.

" When your time'sup cometo

BIGGER THAN THE BAKER'S BOY

When he had gone, Robert beckonedCyril

and said-
" Tell them I must and will have a rest. And
I want my tea."
Tea wasprovided, and a paper hastily pin-
ned on the tent. It said-

CLOSED POR HALF AN HOUR

WHILE THE GIANT GETS HIS TEA

Then there was a hurried council.

" How am I to get away?" said Robert.

" I've been thinking about it all the after-
noon."

" Why, walk out when the sun sets and you're
your right size. They can't do anything
to us."

Robert opened his eyes. " Why, they'd

nearly kill us," he said, "when they saw me
get my right size. No, we must think of some
other way. We must be alone when the sun
sets."

" I know," said Cyril briskly, and he went to

the door, outside which Bill was smoking a
claypipe and talking in a low voice to 'Becca.
231
 FIVE CHILDREN AND IT

Cyril heard him say-" Good as havin' a for-

tune left you."
" Look here," said Cyril, " you canlet people
comein agarnin a minute. He's nearlyfin-
ished tea. But he must be left alone when
the sun sets. He's very queer at that timeof
day, and if he's worried I won't answerfor
the consequences."
"Why-what comesover him?" askedBill.
"I don't know; it's-it's sort of a change,"
said Cyril candidly. " He isn't at all like
himself-you'd hardly know him. He's very
queer indeed. Someone'll get hurt if he'snot
alone about sunset." This was true.

" He'll pull round for the evening,I s'pose?"

" Oh yes-half an hour after sunsethe'll be
quite himself again."
" Best humour him," said the woman.
And so,at what Cyril judgedwasabouthalf
an hour before sunset,the tent was again
closed" whilst the giant getshis supper."
The crowdwasverymerryaboutthegiant's
mealsand their coming so closetogether.
" Well,hecanpickabit," Bill owned.
"You
232
BIGGER THAN THE BAKER'S BOY

see he has to eat hearty, being the size

he is."
Inside the tent the four children breathlessly
arrangeda plan of retreat.
" You go now," said Cyril to the girls, " and
get along home as fast as you can. Oh, never
mind the pony-cart; we'll get that to-morrow.
Robert and I are dressed the same. We'll
managesomehow, like Sydney Carton did.
Only, you girls must get out, or it's all no go.
We can run, but you can't-whatever you may
think. No, Jane, it's no good Robert going
out and knocking people down. The police
would follow him till he turned his proper
size, and then arrest him like a shot. Go you
must! If you don't, I'll never speak to you
again. It wasyou got us into this messreally,
hanging round people'slegs the way you did
this morning. Go, I tell you! "
And Jane and Anthea went.
"We're going home," they said to Bill.
" We're leaving the giant with you. Be kind
to him." And that, asAnthea said afterwards,
wasvery deceitful, but what were they to do?
233
 FIVE CHILDREN AND IT

When they had gone, Cyril went to Bill.

" Look here," he said, " he wants someears
of corn-there's some in the next field but one.
I'll just run and get it. Oh, and he sayscan't
you loop up the tent at the back a bit? He
sayshe's stifling for a breath of air. I'll see
no one peeps in at him. I'll cover him up,
and he can take a nap while I go for the corn.
He will have it-there's no holding him when
he getslike this."
The giant wasmade comfortable with a heap
of sacks and an old tarpaulin. The curtain
was looped up, and the brothers were left
alone. They matured their plan in whispers.
Outside, the merry-go-round blared out its
comic tunes, screaming now and then to at-
tract public notice.
Half a minute after the sun had set, a boy
came out past Bill.
" I'm off for the corn," he said,andmingled
quickly with the crowd.
At the same instant a boy came out of the
back of the tent past 'Becca, posted there as
sentinel.

234
BIGGER THAN THE BAKER'S BOY

" I'm off after the corn," said this boy also.
And he,too, movedaway quietly and was lost
in thecrowd. The front-door boy wasCyril;
the back-doorwas Robert-now, sincesunset,
once more his proper size. They walked
quickly through the field, along the road,
where Robert caught Cyril up. Then they
ran. They were home as soon as the girls
were,for it was a long way, and they ran most
of it. It was indeeda very long way, as they
foundwhen they had to go and drag the pony-
cart home next morning, with no enormous
Robert to wheel them in it as if it were a mail-

cart, and they were babies and he was their

gigantic nursemaid.

I cannot possibly tell you what Bill and

'Beccasaidwhen theyfound that the giant had
gone. For one thing, I do not know.

235
 CHAPTER IX

GROWN UP

CYRIL
hadonce
pointed
out
that
ordi
nary life is full of occasionson which
a wish would be most useful. And
this thought filled his mind when he
happened to wake early on the morn-
ing after the morning after Robert had
wished to be bigger than the baker's
boy, and had been it. The day that lay
between these two days had been occupied
entirely by getting the governess-carthome
from Benenhurst.

Cyril dressed.hastily; he did not takea bath,

becausetin baths are so noisy, and he had no
wish to rouseRobert, and he slipped off alone,
as Anthea had once done, and ran throughthe
dewy morning to the sand-pit. He dug up
the Psammeadvery carefully and kindly,and
beganthe conversationby askingit whether
236
 GROWN UP

it still felt any ill effectsfrom the contactwith

the tearsof Robert the day before yesterday.
The Psammeadwas in good temper. It re-
pliedpolitely.
"And now, what can I do for you?" it said.
" I supposeyou've come here so early to ask
for somethingfor yourself-something your
brothersand sistersaren't to know about,eh?
Now, do be persuadedfor your own good!
Ask for a good fat Megatherium and have
done with it."

"Thank you-not to-day, I think," said

Cyril cautiously. " What I really wanted to
saywas-you know how you're always wish-
ing for things when you're playing at any-
thing?"
" I seldomplay," said the Psammeadcoldly.
" Well, you know what I mean," Cyril went
on impatiently. "What I want to say is:
won't you let us have our wish just when we
thinkof it, and just wherewe happento be?
Sothat we don't have to come and disturb you
again,"addedthe crafty Cyril.
" It'll only end in your wishing for some-
237
 FIVE CHILDREN AND IT
thing you don't really want, asyoudid about
thecastle,"saidthe Psammead,
stretching
its
brownarmsandyawning. " It's alwaysthe
samesincepeopleleft off eatingreallywhole-
some things. However, have it your own
way. Good-bye."
" Good-bye," said Cyril politely.
" I'll tell you what," said the Psammeadsud-
denly, shooting out its long snail's eyes,-
" I'm getting tired of you-all of you. You
have no more sensethan so many oysters. Go
along with you!"
And Cyril went.
"What an awful long time babies stay
babies," said Cyril after the Lamb had taken
his watch out of his pocket while he wasn't
noticing, and with coos and clucks of naughty
rapture had openedthe caseand usedthe
whole thing as a garden spade,and when even
immersion in a wash basin had failed to wash
the mould from the works and make the watch
goagain. Cyril hadsaidseveral
thingsinthe
heat of the moment;but now he wascalmer,
andhadevenconsented to carry theLambpart
238
He openedthe caseand usedthewholething
as a garden spade
 GROWN UP

of the way to the woods. Cyril had per-

suaded the others to agree to his plan, and not
to wish for anything more till they really did
wish it. Meantime it seemedgood to go to
the woods for nuts, and on the mossygrass
under a sweet chestnut tree the five were sit-
ting. The Lamb waspulling up the mossby
fat handfuls, and Cyril was gloomily con-
templatingthe ruins of his watch.
" He does grow," said Anthea. " Doesn't
'oo,precious?"
" Me grow," said the Lamb cheerfully-" me
grow big boy, have guns' an' mouses-an'-"
an'"- -- Imagination or vocabulary gave
outhere. But anywayit wasthe longestspeech
the Lamb had ever made, and it charmed
everyone,even Cyril, who tumbled the Lamb
over and rolled him in the moss to the music
of delighted squeals.
" I supposehe'll be grown up some day,"
Antheawassaying,dreamily looking up at the
blue of the sky that showedbetweenthe long
straight chestnut-leaves. But at that moment
theLamb,strugglinggaily with Cyril, thrust
239
 FIVE CHILDREN AND IT

a stout-shodlittle foot againsthis brother's

chest; there was a crack!-the innocentLamb
had broken the glass of father's second-best
Waterbury watch, which Cyril had borrowed
without leave.

"Grow up someday!" said Cyril bitterly,

plumping the Lamb down on the grass. " I
daresay he will-when nobody wants him to.
I wish to goodnesshe would "-
" Oh, take care!" cried Anthea in an agony
of apprehension. But it was too late-like
music to a song her words and Cyril's came
out together-
Anthea-" Oh, take care!"
Cyril-" Grow up now! "
The faithful Psammead was true to its prom-
ise, and there, before the horrified eyesof its
brothers and sisters,the Lamb suddenlyand
violently grew up. It was the mostterrible
moment. The changewas not so suddenas
the wish-changes usually were. The Baby's
face changed first. It grew thinner and
larger, lines camein the forehead,the eyes
grewmoredeep-set
anddarkerin colour,the
240
 GROWN UP

mouthgrew longer and thinner; most terrible

of all, a little dark mustacheappearedon the
lip of onewho was still-except as to the face
-a two-year-old baby in a linen smock and
white open-work socks.
"Oh, I wish it wouldn't! Oh, I wish it
wouldn't! You boys might wish as well!"
They all wished hard, for the sight was
enoughto dismay the most heartless. They
all wished so hard, indeed, that they felt quite
giddy and almost lost consciousness; but the
wishing was quite vain, for, when the wood
ceasedto whirl round, their dazed eyeswere
riveted at once by the spectacle of a very
proper-looking young man in flannels and a
straw hat-a young man who wore the same
little black mustachewhich just before they
had actually seen growing upon the Baby's
lip. This, then, was the Lamb-grown up!
Their own Lamb! It was a terrible moment.
The grown-up Lamb moved gracefully
across the moss and settled himself against
the trunk of the sweet chestnut. He tilted
the straw hat over his eyes. He was evi-
241
 FIVE CHILDREN AND IT

dently weary. He was going to sleep. The

Lamb-the original little tiresome beloved
Lamb often went to sleep at odd times and in
unexpected places. Was this new Lamb in
the grey flannel suit and the pale green neck-
tie like the other Lamb? or had his mind
grown up together with his body?
That was the question which the others,in
a hurried council held among the yellowing
brake-fern a few yards from the sleeper,de-
bated eagerly.
" Whichever it is, it'll be just as awful," said
Anthea. " If his inside sensesare grown up
too, he won't standour looking after him; and
if he's still a baby inside of him how on earth
are we to get him to do anything? And
it'll be getting on for dinner-time in a
minute."
" And we haven't got any nuts," saidJane.
"Oh bother nuts!" said Robert, "but
dinner's different-I didn't have half enough
dinner yesterday. Couldn't we tie him to
the treeand go hometo our dinner andcome
back afterwards? "
242
 GROWN UP

"A fat lot of dinner we should get if we

went back without the Lamb! " said Cyril in
scornful misery. " And it'll be just the same
if we go back with him in the statehe is now.
Yes, I know it's my doing; don't rub it in I
I know I'm a beast, and not fit to live; you
can take that for settled, and say no more
aboutit. The questionis, what are we going
to do?"

" Let's wake him up, and take him into

Rochester or Maidstone and get something to
eat at a baker's shop," said Robert hope-
fully.
"Take him?" repeated Cyril. "Yes-do!
It's all my fault-I don't deny that-but
you'll find you've got your work cut out for
you if you try to take that young man any-
where. The Lamb always was spoilt, but
now he's grown up he's a demon-simply. I
can see it. Look at his mouth."
"Well then," said Robert, "let's wake him
up and seewhat he'll do. Perhapshe'll take
us to Maidstone and stand treat. He ought
to havea lot of moneyin the pocketsof those
243
 FIVE CHILDREN AND IT
extra-specialpants. We must havedinner
anyway."
They drew lotswith little bits of brakefern.
It fell to Jane'slot to wakenthegrown-up
Lamb.

Shedid it gently by tickling his nosewitha

twig of honeysuckle. He said " Bother the
flies!" twice, and then openedhis eyes.
" Hullo, kiddies!" he said in a languidtone,
"still here? What's the giddy hour? You'll
be late for your grub!"
" I know we shall," said Robert bitterly.
" Then cut along home," said the grown-up
Lamb.

"What about your grub, though?" asked

Jane.
"Oh, how far is it to the station,do you
think? I've a sort of a notion that I'll run
up to townandhavesomelunchat theclub."
Blank miseryfell like a pall on thefour
others. The Lamb-alone-unattended-
wouldgoto townandhavelunchata club!
Perhaps
hewouldalsohaveteathere.Per-
hapssunset
wouldcomeuponhimamidthe
244
 n

She
didit gentlyby ticklinghisnosewith
a twig of honeysuckle
 GROWN UP

dazzling luxury of club-land, and a helpless

crosssleepybaby would find itself alone amid
unsympatheticwaiters, and would wail mis-
erably for "Panty" from the depths of a
club arm-chair! The picture moved Anthea
almost to tears.

" Oh no, Lamb ducky, you mustn't do thatl"

she cried incautiously.
The grown-up Lamb frowned. " My dear
Anthea,"he said, " how often am I to tell you
that my name is Hilary or St. Maur or
Devereux?-any of my baptismal names are
free to my little brothers and sisters,but not
' Lamb'-a relic of foolishness and far-off
childhood."
This was awful. He was their elder brother
now, was he? Well of course he was, if he
wasgrown-up-since they weren't. Thus, in
whispers,Anthea and Robert.
But the almost daily adventures resulting
from the Psammead'swishes were making
thechildrenwisebeyondtheir years.
" DearHilary," saidAnthea,andthe others
chokedat the name," you know father didn't
245
 FIVE CHILDREN AND IT

wish you to go to London. He wouldn't like

us to be left alone without you to takecareof
us. Oh, deceitful thing that I am!" she
added to herself.

" Look here," said Cyril, " if you're our

elder brother, why not behave as sich and
takeus over to Maidstoneand give us a jolly
good blow-out, and we'll go on the river
afterwards?"

" I'm infinitely obliged to you," said the

Lamb courteously, "but I should prefer soli-
tude. Go home to your lunch-I meanyour
dinner. Perhaps I may look in about tea-
time-or I may not be home till after you are
in your beds."
Their beds! Speaking glances flashedbe-
tween the wretched four. Much bed there
would be for them if theywent homewithout
the Lamb.
" We promisedmother not to losesight of
you if we tookyou out," Janesaidbeforethe
others could stop her.
" Look here, Jane," said the grown-up
Lamb,puttinghis handsin his pockets
and
246
 GROWN UP

looking down at her, " little girls should be

seenand not heard. You kids must learn not
to make yourselvesa nuisance. Run along
homenow-and perhaps, if you're good, I'll
giveyou eacha penny to-morrow."
" Look here," said Cyril, in the best " man
to man" tone at his command, "where are
yougoing, old man? You might let Bobsand
me comewith you-even if you don't want
the girls."
This was really rather noble of Cyril, for he
never did care much about being seen in pub-
lic with the Lamb, who of course after sunset
would be a baby again.
"
The " man to man tone succeeded.

" I shall run over to Maidstone on my bike,"

said the new Lamb airily, fingering the
little black mustache. " I can lunch at The
Crown-and perhaps I'll have a pull on the
river; but I can't takeyou all on the machine
-now, can I? Run along home, like good
children."
The position was desperate.Robert ex-
changeda despairinglook with Cyril. An-
247
 FIVE CHILDREN AND IT

theadetacheda pin from herwaistband,a pin

whose withdrawal left a gaping chasmbe-
tween skirt and bodice, and handed it fur-
tively to Robert-with a grimace of the
darkestand deepest
meaning. Robertslipped
away to the road. There, sure enough,
stood a bicycle-a beautiful new one. Of
course Robert understood at once that if
the Lamb was grown up he must have a
bicycle.
This had always been one of Robert's own
reasons for wishing to be grown-up. He
hastily began to use the pin-eleven punc-
tures in the back tyre, sevenin the front. He
would have madethe total twenty-two but for
the rustling of the yellow hazel-leaves,which
warned him of the approach of the others.
He hastily leaned a hand on each wheel, and
was rewarded by the " whish " of the what
was left of air escaping from eighteen neat
pin-holes.
" Your bike's run down," said Robert, won-
dering how he could so soon have learnedto
deceive.

248
There,sureenough,
stooda bicycle
 GROWN UP

"So it is," said Cyril.

" It's a puncture," said Anthea, stooping
down, and standing up again with a thorn
which she had got ready for the purpose.
"Look here."
The grown-up Lamb (or Hilary, as I sup-
poseone must now call him) fixed his pump
and blew up the tyre. The punctured state
of it was soon evident.

" I supposethere's a cottage somewhere

near-where one could get a pail of water?"
said the Lamb.

There was; and when the number of

punctures had been made manifest, it was
felt to be a special blessing that the cottage
provided "teas for cyclists." It provided an
odd sort of tea-and-hammy meal for the
Lamb and his brothers. This was paid for
out of the fifteen shillings which had been
earnedby Robert when he was a giant-for
theLamb,it appeared,
had unfortunatelyno
moneyabout him. This was a great disap-
pointmentfor the others; but it is a thing that
will happen,evento themostgrown-upof us.
249
 FIVE CHILDREN AND IT

However, Robert had enough to eat, and that

was something. Quietly but persistently
the miserable four took it in turns to try and
persuadethe Lamb (or St. Maur) to spend
the rest of the day in the woods. There was
not very much of the day left by the time he
had mended the eighteenth puncture. He
looked up from the completed work with a
sigh of relief, and suddenly put his tie
straight.
"There's a lady coming," he said briskly,-
" for goodness'sake, get out of the way. Go
home-hide-vanish somehow! I can't be

seenwith a pack of dirty kids." His broth-

ers and sisters were indeed rather dirty, be-
cause,earlier in the day, the Lamb, in his
infant state,had sprinkled a good deal of gar-
den soil over them. The grown-upLamb's
voice was so tyrant-like, as Jane said after-
wards,that theyactuallyretreatedto the back
garden,and left him with his little mustache
and his flannel suit to meet alone the young
lady, who now came up the front garden
wheeling a bicycle.
25°
Thepuncturedstateof it wassoonevident
 GROWN UP

The womanof the housecame out, and the

youngladyspoketo her,-the Lambraised
his hat as she passedhim,-and the children
could not hear what she said, though they
were craning round the corner and listening
with all their ears. They felt it to be " per-
fectly fair," as Robert said, "with that
wretched Lamb in that condition."
When the Lamb spoke, in a languid voice
heavy with politeness, they heard well
enough.
" A puncture?" he was saying. " Can I not
be of any assistance? If you could allow
me ?"

Therewas a stifled explosionof laughter

and the grown-up Lamb (otherwise Dever-
eux) turnedthe tail of an angry eye in its
direction.

"You'reverykind," saidthe lady,looking

attheLamb. Shelookedrathershy,but,as
theboysput it, theredidn't seemto be any
nonsense about her.
" Butoh,"whispered
Cyril," I shouldhave
thought
he'dhadenoughbicycle-mending
251
 FIVE CHILDREN AND IT

for oneday-and if sheonly knewthat really

and truly he's only a whiny-piny, silly little
baby!"
" He's not," Anthea murmured angrily.
" He's a dear-if people only let him alone.
It's our own precious Lamb still, whatever
silly idiots may turn him into-isn't he,
Pussy?"
Jane doubtfully supposedso.
Now, the Lamb-whom I must try to re-
member to call St. Maur-was examining
the lady's bicycle and talking to her with a
very grown-up manner indeed. No one could
possibly have supposed,to see and hear him,
that only that very morning he had been a
chubby child of two years breaking other
people's Waterbury watches. Devereux (as
he ought to be called for the future) took out
a gold watch when he had mended the lady's
bicycle, and all the hidden onlookers said
"Oh!"-because it seemed so unfair that the

Baby, who had only that morning destroyed

two cheap but honest watches, should now,
in the grown-upness to which Cyril's folly
252
 GROWN UP

had raised him, have a real gold watch-

with a chain and seals!
Hilary (as I will now term him) withered
his brothers and sisterswith a glance, and
thensaid to the lady-with whom he seemed
to be quite friendly-
" If you will allow me, I will ride with you
as far as the Cross Roads; it is getting late,
and thereare tramps about."
No one will ever know what answer the
young lady intended to give to this gallant
offer,for, directly Anthea heard it made,she
rushedout, knocking against a swill pail,
which overflowed in a turbid stream, and
caughtthe Lamb (I supposeI ought to say
Hilary) by the arm. The others followed,
and in an instant the four dirty children were
visiblebeyonddisguise.
" Don't let him," said Anthea to the lady,
andshespokewith intenseearnestness;" he's
not fit to go with anyone!"
"Go away,little girl!" said St. Maur (as
we will now call him) in a terrible voice.
" Go home at once!"
253
 FIVE CHILDREN AND IT

" You'd much better not have anything to do

with him," the now recklessAnthea went on.
" He doesn't know who he is. He's some-
thing very different from what you think
he is."

"What do you mean?" asked the lady, not

unnaturally, while Devereux (as I must term
the grown-up Lamb) tried vainly to push
Anthea away. The others backed her up,
and she stood solid as a rock.

"You just let him go with you," said An-

thea, "you'll soon see what I mean! How
would you like to suddenly see a poor little
helpless baby spinning along downhill beside
you with its feet up on a bicycle it had lost
control of?"

The lady had turned rather pale.

"Who are thesevery dirty children?" she
asked the grown-up Lamb (sometimescalled
St. Maur in thesepages).
" I don't know," he lied miserably.
"Oh, Lamb! how can you?" cried Jane,-
"when you know perfectly well you're our
own little babybrother that we're so fond of.
254
 GROWN UP

We'rehis big brothersand sisters,"she ex-

plained,
turningto thelady,whowith trem-
blinghandswasnow turning her bicycle
towardsthe gate, " and we've got to take care
of him. And we must get him home before
sunset,
or I don'tknowwhateverwill become
of us. You see,he's sort of under a spell-
enchanted-youknow what I mean!"
Again and again the Lamb (Devereux, I
mean)had tried to stopJane's eloquence,but
Robertand Cyril held him, one by each leg,
and no proper explanation was possible.
The lady rode hastily away, and electrified
herrelativesat dinner by telling them of her
escapefrom a family of dangerouslunatics.
"Thelittle girl's eyesweresimply thoseof a
maniac. I can't think how she came to be at
large,"shesaid.
When herbicyclehadwhizzedawaydown
theroad,
Cyrilspokegravely.
"Hilary,old chap,"he said,"you must
have
hadasunstroke
or something.
Andthe
things
you've
been
saying
tothatlady!Why,
if wewere
totellyouthethingsyou'vesaid
255
 FIVE CHILDREN AND IT

when you are yourself again, say to-morrow

morning, you wouldn't ever understandthem
-let alonebelievethem! You trust to me,
old chap, and come home now, and if you're
not yourself in the morning we'll ask the
milkman to ask the doctor to come."
The poor grown-up Lamb (St. Maur was
really one of his Christian names) seemed
now too bewildered to resist.

" Since you seem all to be as mad as the

whole worshipful company of hatters," he
said bitterly, " I suppose I had better take
you home. But you're not to supposeI shall
passthis over. I shall have something to say
to you all to-morrow morning."
"Yes, you will, my Lamb," said Anthea
under her breath, " but it won't be at all the
sort of thing you think it's going to be."
In her heart she could hear the pretty, soft
little loving voice of the baby Lamb-so dif-
ferent from the affected tones of the dreadful
grown-up Lamb (one of whose nameswas
Devereux)-saying, "Me love Panty-wants
to come to own Panty."
256
 GROWN UP

"Oh, let'sgo home,for goodness'

sake,"she
said. " You shall say whatever you like in
themorning-if you can," she added in a
whisper.
It was a gloomy party that went home
throughthe soft evening. During Anthea's
remarksRobert had again made play with
thepin and the bicycle tyre, and the Lamb
(whomthey had to call St. Maur or Dever-
euxor Hilary) seemedreally at last to have
had his fill of bicycle-mending. So the
machine was wheeled.

The sunwasjust on the point of setting when

they arrived at the White House. The four
elderchildren would have liked to linger in
the lane till the complete sunsetting turned
thegrown-up Lamb (whose Christian names
I will not further weary you by repeating)
intotheir own dear tiresomebaby brother.
Buthe,in hisgrown-upness, insistedon going
on,and thus he was met in the front garden
by Martha.
Nowyouremember
that,asaspecialfavour,
thePsammead
hadarrangedthattheservants
257
 FIVE CHILDREN AND IT

in the houseshouldnever notice anychange

brought about by the wishes of the children.
Therefore Martha merely saw the usual
party, with the baby Lamb, about whom she
had been desperately anxious all the after-
noon,trotting besideAnthea, on fat baby legs,
while the children, of course, still saw the
grown-up Lamb (never mind what nameshe
was christened by), and Martha rushed at
him and caught him in her arms, exclaim-
ing-
"Come to his own Martha, then-a precious
poppet!"
The grown-up Lamb (whose names shall
now be buried in oblivion) struggled furi-
ously. An expressionof intense horror and
annoyance was seen on his face. But Martha
was stronger than he. Shelifted him up and
carried him into the house. None of the
children will ever forget that picture. The
neat grey-flannel-suitedgrown-up young man
with the green necktie and the little black
mustache-fortunately, he was slightly built,
and not tall-struggling in the sturdy arms
258
The grown-upLamb struggled
.. .,
 GROWN UP

of Martha, who bore him away helpless,im-

ploringhim, as shewent, to be a good boy
now,and come and have his nice bremminkl
Fortunately,the sun set as they reached the
doorstep,the bicycle disappeared,and Mar-
tha was seen to carry into the house the real
live darling sleepytwo-year-old Lamb. The
grown-upLamb (namelesshenceforth) was
gone for ever.
" For ever," said Cyril, " because,as soon as
ever the Lamb's old enough to be bullied, we
mustjolly well begin to bully him, for his
own sake-so that he mayn't grow up like
that."

"You shan'tbully him," said Anthea stoutly,

-"not if I can stop it."
"We must tame him by kindness,"said
Jane.
"You see,"saidRobert,"if he growsup in
theusualway, there'll be plenty of time to
correcthim as he goes along. The awful
thingto-daywashis growingup sosuddenly.
Therewasnotimeto improvehim at all."
"He doesn't
wantanyimproving,"saidAn-
259
 FIVE CHILDREN AND IT

thea as the voice of the Lamb came cooing

through the opendoor,just asshehad heard
it in her heart that afternoon-
" Me loves Panty-wants to come to own
Pantyl"

260
 CHAPTER X

SCALPS

PROBABLY
the
day
would
have
been
a
greater successif Cyril had not been
reading The Last of the Mohicans.
Thestory was running in his head at break-
fast,and as he took his third cup of tea he
saiddreamily, " I wish there were Red In-
diansin England-not big ones, you know,
butlittle ones,just about the right size for us
to fight."
Everyonedisagreedwith him at the time
and no one attached any importance to
theincident. But when they went down to
thesand-pitto askfor a hundredpoundsin
two-shilling pieces with Queen Victoria's
headon,to preventmistakes-whichtheyhad
always
felt to be a really reasonable
wish that
mustturn out well-they found out that they
haddoneit again! For the Psammead,
whichwasverycrossaridsleepy,
said-
261
 FIVE CHILDREN AND IT

"Oh, don't bother me. You've had your

wish."

" I didn't know it," said Cyril.

"Don't you remember yesterday?" said the
Sand-fairy, still more disagreeably. " You
asked me to let you have your wishes wher-
ever you happenedto be, and you wished this
morning, and you've got it."
"Oh, have we?" said Robert. "What is it?"
" So you've forgotten?" said the Psammead,
beginning to burrow. "Never mind; you'll
know soon enough. And I wish you joy of
it! A nice thing you've let yourselves in
for!"

"We always do somehow," said Jane sadly.

And now the odd thing was that no one
could remember anyone'shaving wished for
anything that morning. The wish about the
Red Indians had not stuck in anyone'shead.
It was a most anxious morning. Everyone
was trying to remember what had been
wished for, and no one could, and everyone
kept expecting something awful to happen
every minute. It was most agitating; they
262
 SCALPS

knewfrom what the Psammead had said,

thattheymusthave wished for something
morethanusuallyundesirable,and they spent
several
hoursin most agonizing uncertainty.
It wasnot till nearly dinner-time that Jane
tumbledover The Last of the Mohicans,-
which had of course, been left face down-
wardson the floor,-and when Anthea had
pickedher and the book up she suddenly
said,"I know!" and sat down flat on the
carpet.
"Oh, Pussy,how awful! It was Indians he
wishedfor-Cyril-at breakfast, don't you
remember? He said,' I wish there were Red
Indiansin England,'-and now there are,
andthey'regoing aboutscalping peopleall
overthecountry,aslikely asnot."
"Perhapsthey'reonly in Northumberland
andDurham,"
saidJanesoothingly.It was
almostimpossibleto believe that it could
reallyhurtpeoplemuchto be scalpedso far
away as that.
" Don'tyoubelieveit 1" saidAnthea. " The
Sammyadd saidwe'd let ourselvesin for a
263
 FIVE CHILDREN AND IT

nice thing. That means they'll come here.

And supposethey scalped the Lamb!"
" Perhaps the scalping would come right
again at sunset," said Jane; but she did not
speak so hopefully as usual.
"Not it!" said Anthea. "The things that
grow out of the wishes don't go. Look at the
fifteen shillings! Pussy, I'm going to break
something, and you must let me have every
penny of money you've got. The Indians
will come here, don't you see? That Spiteful
Psammeadas good as said so. You seewhat
my plan is? Come on!"
Jane did not see at all. But she followed
her sister meekly into mother's bedroom.
Anthea lifted down the heavy water-jug-
it had a pattern of storks and long grasseson
it, which Anthea never forgot. She carried
it into the dressing-room, and carefully
emptied the water out of it into the bath.
Then she took the jug back into the bedroom
and dropped it on the floor. You know how
a jug always breaks if you happen to drop it
by accident. If you happen to drop it on
264
 SCALPS

purpose,
it isquitedifferent.Antheadropped
that jug three times, and it was as un-
broken as ever. So at last she had to take
herfather'sboot-treeand break the jug with
that in cold blood. It was heartless work.
Next she broke open the missionary-box
with the poker. Jane told her that it was
wrong,of course,but Anthea shut her lips
verytight and then said-
"Don't be silly-it's a matter of life and
death."

Therewasnot very much in the missionary-

box,-only seven-and-fourpence,-but the
girls betweenthem had nearly four shillings.
Thismadeoverelevenshillings, as you will
easilysee.
Anthea
tiedup the moneyin a cornerof her
pocket-handkerchief.
"Come on, Jane!"
shesaid, and ran down to the farm. She
knewthat the farmerwas going into Roch-
esterthat afternoon. In fact it had been ar-
rangedthat he was to take the four children
with him. They had planned this in the
happyhourwhenthey believedthat they
265
 FIVE CHILDREN AND IT

we're going to get that hundred pounds,in

two-shilling pieces, out of the Psammead.
They had arranged to pay the farmer two
shillings each for the ride. Now Anthea
hastily explained to him that they could not
go, but would he take Martha and the Baby
instead? He agreed, but he was not pleased
to get only half-a-crown instead of eight
shillings.
Then the girls ran home again. Anthea
was agitated, but not flurried. When she
came to think it over afterwards, she could
not help seeing that she had acted with the
most far-seeing promptitude, just like a born
general. She fetched a little box from her
corner drawer, and went to find Martha, who
was laying the cloth and not in the best of
tempers.
" Look here," said Anthea. " I've broken
the water jug in mother's room."
" Just like you-always up to some mis-
chief," said Martha, dumping down a salt-
cellar with a bang.
" Don't be cross, Martha dear," said Anthea.
266
Shebrokeopenthe missionary-box
with
the poker.
 SCALPS

" I've got enough money to pay for a new

one-if onlyyou'll be a dearand go andbuy
it for us. Your cousinskeep a china-shop,
don't they? And I would like you to get it
to-day,in case mother comeshome to-mor-
row. You know she said she might per-
haps."
" But you're all going into town yourselves,"
said Martha.

"We can't afford to, if we get the new jug,"

said Anthea; "but we'll pay for you to go,
if you'll take the Lamb. And I say, Martha,
look here-I'll give you my Liberty box, if
you'll go. Look, it's most awfully pretty-
all inlaid with real silver and ivory and
ebony,like King Solomon's temple."
"I see," said Martha,-"no, I don't want
your box, miss. What you want is to get the
preciousLamb off your hands for the after-
noon. Don't you go for to think I don't see
throughyou! "
This wasso true that Anthea longed to deny
it at once. Martha had no business to know
so much. But she held her tongue.
267
 FIVE CHILDREN AND IT

Martha set down the bread with a bang that

made it jump off its trencher.
" I do want the jug got," saidAntheasoftly.
"You will go, won't you?"
"Well, just for this once, I don't mind; but
mind you don't get into none of your out-
rageous mischief while I'm gone-that's
all!"

" He's going earlier than he thought," said

Anthea eagerly. "You'd better hurry and
get dressed. Do put on that lovely purple
frock, Martha, and the hat with the pink
cornflowers, and the yellow-lace collar.
Jane'll finish laying the cloth, and I'll wash
the Lamb and get him ready."
As shewashed the unwilling Lamb and hur-
ried him into his best clothes, Anthea peeped
out of the window from time to time; so far
all was well-she could see no Red Indians.

When with a rush and a scurry and some

deepening of the damask of Martha's com-
plexion she and the Lamb had been got off,
Anthea drew a deepbreath.
"He's safel" she said, and, to Jane's horror,
268
 SCALPS

flungherselfdownon the floor andburst into

floodsof tears. Jane did not understand at
all how a person could be so brave and like
a general,and then suddenly give way and
goflat like an air-balloon when you prick it.
It is better not to go flat, of course,but you
will observethat Anthea did not give way till
her aim was accomplished. She had got the
dear Lamb out of danger-she felt certain
that the Red Indians would be round the

White House or nowhere-the farmer's cart

would not come back till after sunset, so she
could afford to cry a little. It was partly
with joy that shecried, becauseshe had done
what she meant to do. She cried for about
threeminutes,while Jane hugged her miser-
ablyand said at five-secondintervals, " Don't
cry, Panther dear!"
Thenshejumpedup, rubbedher eyeshard
withthe cornerof her pinafore,so that they
keptred for the rest of the day, and started.
to tell the boys. But just at that moment
cookrangthe dinner-bell,and nothingcould
besaidtill theyhadbeenhelpedto minced
269
 FIVE CHILDREN AND IT

beef. Then cook left the room, and Anthea

told her tale. But it is a mistake to tell a
thrilling tale when people are eating minced
beef and boiled potatoes. There seemed
somehowto be something about the food that
made the idea of Red Indians seem flat and
unbelievable. The boys actually laughed,
and called Anthea a little silly.
"Why," said Cyril, " I'm almost sure it was
before I said that, that Jane said she wished
it would be a fine day."
" It wasn't," said Jane briefly.
" Why, if it was Indians," Cyril went on,-
"salt, please, and mustard-I must have
something to make this mush go down,-if
it was Indians, they'd have been infesting the
place long before this-you know they
would. I believe it's the fine day."
"Then why did the Sammyadd say we'd let
ourselvesin for a nice thing?" asked Anthea.
She was feeling very cross. She knew she
had acted with nobility and discretion, and
after that it wasvery hard to be called a little
silly, especially when shehad the weight of a
270
 SCALPS

burglaredmissionary-boxand about seven-

and-fourpence, mostly in coppers, lying like
leadupon her conscience.
There was a silence, during which cook
took away the mincy plates and brought in
the pudding. As soon as she had retired,
Cyril beganagain.
" Of courseI don't mean to say," he admit-
ted,"that it wasn't a good thing to get Mar-
tha andthe Lamb out of the way for the after-
noon; but as for Red Indians-why, you
knowjolly well the wishes always come that
veryminute. If there was going to be Red
Indians,they'd be here now."
"I expectthey are," said Anthea; "they're
lurking amid the undergrowth, for anything
youknow. I do think you're most unkind."
" Indians almost always do lurk, really,
though, don'tthey?" put in Jane,anxiousfor
peace.

"No, they don't," said Cyril tartly. "And

I'm not unkind, I'm only truthful. And I
sayit wasutter rot breakingthe water-jug;
andasfor the missionary-box, I believeit's a
271
 FIVE CHILDREN AND IT

treason-crime,
and I shouldn'twonderif you
could be hanged for it, if any of us was to
split"-
"Shut up, can't you?" said Robert; but
Cyril couldn't. You see,he felt in his heart
that if there should be Indians they would be
entirely his own fault, so he did not wish to
believe in them. And trying not to believe
things when in your heart you are almost sure
they are true, is as bad for the temper as any-
thing I know.
" It's simply idiotic," he said, " talking about
Indians, when you can see for yourself that
it's Jane who's got her wish. Look what a
fine day it is OH!-"
He had turned towards the window to point
out the finenessof the day-the others turned
too-and a frozen silencecaught at Cyril, and
none of the others felt at all like breaking it.
For there, peering round the corner of the
window, among the red leavesof the Virginia
creeper, was a face-a brown face, with a
long nose and a tight mouth and very bright
eyes. And the facewas painted in coloured
272
 SCALPS

patches.It had long black hair, and in the

hair were feathers!
Every child's mouth in the room opened,
andstayedopen. The pudding was growing
white and cold on their plates. No one
could move.

Suddenlythe feathered head was cautiously

withdrawn, and the spell was broken. I am
sorryto say that Anthea's first words were
very like a girl.
" There,now!" she said. " I told you so!"
The pudding had now definitely ceased to
charm. Hastily wrapping their portions in
a Spectator of the week before the week be-
forelast, they hid them behind the crinkled
paperstove-ornament,and fled upstairs to
reconnoitre and to hold a hurried council.
"Pax," said Cyril handsomelywhen they
reached
their mother's bedroom. " Panther,
I'msorryif I wasa brute."
"All right," said Anthea; "but you see
now!"

Nofurthertraceof Indians,however,
could
bediscernedfrom the windows.
273
 FIVE CHILDREN AND IT

" Well," said Robert, "what are we to do?"

"The only thing I can think of," said An-
thea, who was now generally admitted to be
the heroine of the day, " is-if we dressedup
as like Indians as we can, and looked out of
the windows, or even went out. They might
think we were the powerful leadersof a large
neighbouring tribe, and-and not do any-
thing to us, you know, for fear of awful
vengeance."
"But Eliza, and the cook?" said Jane.
"You forget-they can't notice anything,'1
said Robert. " They wouldn't notice any-
thing out of the way, even if they were
scalpedor roastedat a slow fire."
" But would they come right at sunset?"
" Of course. You can't be really scalped or
burned to death without noticing it, and you'd
be sure to notice it next day, even if it escaped
your attention at the time," said Cyril. " I
think Anthea's right, but we shall want a
most awful lot of feathers."
" I'll go down to the hen-house,"said Robert.
" There's one of the turkeys in there-it's not
274
 SCALPS

verywell. I couldcut its featherswithout it

mindingmuch. It's very bad-doesn't seem
to carewhat happensto it. Get me the cut-
ting-out
scissors."
Earnestreconnoitring convinced them all
that no Indians were in the poultry-yard.
Robert went. In five minutes he came back
-pale, but with many feathers.
" Look here," he said, " this is jolly serious.
I cut off the feathers,and when I turned to
come out there was an Indian squinting at
me from under the old hen-coop. I just
brandishedthe feathers and yelled, and got
awaybefore he could get the coop off top of
himself. Panther, get the coloured blankets
off our beds,and look slippy, can't you? "
It is wonderful how like an Indian you can
makeyourselfwith blankets and feathers and
coloured scarves. Of course none of the
childrenhappenedto havelong black hair,
but there was a lot of black calico that had
been bought to cover school-books with.
Theycut strips of this into a sort of fine
fringe,andfastenedit round their headswith
275
 FIVE CHILDREN AND IT

the amber-colouredribbons off the girls' Sun-

day dresses. Then they stuck turkeys' fea-
thers in the ribbons. The calico looked very
like long black hair, especially when the
strips beganto curl up a bit.
" But our faces," said Anthea, " they're not
at all the right colour. We're all rather pale,
and I'm sure I don't know why, but Cyril is
the colour of putty."
" I'm not," said Cyril.
" The real Indians outside seem to be
brownish," said Robert hastily. " I think we
ought to be really red-it's sort of superior
to have a red skin, if you are one."
The red ochre cook uses for the kitchen
bricks seemedto be about the reddest thing
in the house. The children mixed some in
a saucer with milk, as they had seen cook
do for the kitchen floor. Then they carefully
painted each other's faces and hands with it,
till they were quite as red as any Red Indian
need be-if not redder.
They knew at once that they must look very
terrible when they met Eliza in the passage,
276
 SCALPS

and she screamed aloud. This unsolicited

testimonialpleased them very much. Has-
tily tellingher not to be a goose,and that it
wasonly a game, the four blanketed, feath-
ered,really and truly Redskins went boldly
outto meet the foe. I say boldly. That is
becauseI wish to be polite. At any rate, they
went.

Along the hedge dividing the wilderness

fromthe gardenwas a row of dark heads,all
highlyfeathered.
" It's our only chance," whispered Anthea.
"Much better than to wait for their blood-
freezingattack. We must pretend like mad.
Likethat gameof cardswhere you pretend
you'vegot aceswhen you haven't. Fluffing
theycall it, I think. Now then. Whoop!"
With four wild war-whoops-or as near
themaswhitechildren could be expectedto
go without any previous practice-they
rushed
throughthe gateandstruck four war-
like attitudesin face of the line of Red In-
dians.Thesewereall aboutthesame
height,
andthatheightwasCyril's.
277
 FIVE CHILDREN AND IT

" I hope to goodnessthey can talk English,"

said Cyril through his attitude.
Anthea knew they could, though she never
knew how she came to know it. She had a
white towel tied to a walking-stick. This
was a flag of truce, and she waved it, in the
hope that the Indians would know what it
was. Apparently they did-for one who
was browner than the others steppedforward.
" Ye seeka pow-wow?" he said in excellent
English. " I am Golden Eagle, of the
mighty tribe of Rock-dwellers."
"And I," said Anthea, with a sudden in-
spiration, " am the Black Panther-chief
of the-the-the-Mazawattee tribe. My
brothers-I don't mean-yes, I do-the tribe
-I mean the Mazawattees-are in ambush

below the brow of yonder hill."

"And what mighty warriors be these?"
askedGolden Eagle, turning to the others.
Cyril said he was the great chief Squirrel,
of the Moning Congotribe, and, seeingthat
Janewas suckingher thumb and could evi-
dentlythink of no namefor herself,headded,
278
" Ye seeka pow-wow?" he said
 SCALPS

"This great warrior is Wild Cat-Pussy

Feroxwe call it in this land-leader of the
vast Phiteezi tribe."
"And thou, valorous Redskin?" Golden
Eagleinquired suddenlyof Robert, who,
takenunawares,could only reply that he was
Bobs-leader of the Cape Mounted Police.
"And now," said Black Panther, "our
tribes,if wejust whistle them up, will far out-
number your puny forces; so resistance is use-
less. Return, therefore, to your land, O
brother, and smoke pipes of peace in your
wampumswith your squawsand your medi-
cine-men,and dress yourselvesin the gayest
wigwams,and eat happily of the juicy fresh-
caught moccasins."
" You'vegot it all wrong,"murmuredCyril
angrily. But Golden Eagle only looked in-
quiringly at her.
"Thy customs
areotherthan ours,O Black
Panther,"
hesaid. " Bringup thy tribe,that
we may hold pow-wow in state before them,
asbecomesgreat chiefs."
" We'll bringthemup right enough,"said
279
 FIVE CHILDREN AND IT

Anthea, " with their bows and arrows, and

tomahawks and scalping-knives, and every-
thing you can think of, if you don't look sharp
and go."
She spoke bravely enough, but the hearts of
all the children were beating furiously, and
their breath came in shorter and shorter
gasps. For the little real Red Indians were
closing up round them-coming nearer and
nearer with angry murmurs-so that they
were the centre of a crowd of dark cruel
faces.

" It's no go," whispered Robert. " I knew

it wouldn't be. We must make a bolt for the

Psammead. It might help us. If it doesn't-

well, I suppose we shall come alive again at
sunset. I wonder if scalping hurts as much
as they say."
" I'll wave the flag again," said Anthea.
" If they stand back, we'll run for it."
She waved the towel, and the chief com-
manded his followers to stand back. Then,
charging wildly at the place where the line
of Indians was thinnest, the four children
280
 SCALPS

startedto run. Their first rush knocked down

somehalf-dozen Indians, over whose blank-
etedbodiesthe children leaped, and made
straightfor the sand-pit. This was no time
for thesafeeasyway by which carts go down-
rightover the edge of the sand-pit they went,
amongthe yellow and pale purple flowers
anddried grasses,past the little bank martins'
little front doors, skipping, clinging, bound-
ing, stumbling, sprawling, and finally rolling.
Yellow Eagle and his followers came up
with them just at the very spot where they
hadseenthe Psammeadthat morning.
Breathlessand beaten, the wretched chil-
drennow awaited their fate. Sharp knives
andaxesgleamedround them, but worse than
these
wasthecruellight in the eyesof Golden
Eagleand his followers.
" Yehavelied to us,O Black Pantherof the
Mazawattees-and thou,too,Squirrelof the
Moning Congos.Thesealso,PussyFeroxof
thePhiteezi,
andBobsof theCapeMounted
Police,-these
alsohaveliedto us,if notwith
theirtongues,
yet by their silence.Ye have
281
 FIVE CHILDREN AND IT

lied under the cover of the Truce-flag of the

Pale-face. Ye have no followers. Your
tribes are far away-following the hunting
trail. What shall be their doom?" he con-
cluded, turning with a bitter smile to the
other Red Indians.

"Build we the fire!" shouted his followers;

and at once a dozen ready volunteers started
to look for fuel. The four children, each
held between two strong little Indians, cast
despairing glances round them. Oh, if they
could only see the Psammead!
" Do you mean to scalp us first and then
roast us?" asked Anthea desperately.
"Of course!" Redskin opened his eyesat
her. " It's always done."
The Indians had formed a ring round the
children, and now sat on the ground gazing
at their captives. There was a threatening
silence.

Then slowly, by twos and threes, the Indians

who had gone to look for firewood cameback,
and they came back empty-handed. They
had not been able to find a single stick of
282
 SCALPS

wood for a fire! No one ever can, as a mat-

ter of fact, in that part of Kent.
The children drew a deep breath of relief,
but it ended in a moan of terror. For bright
kniveswere being brandished all about them.
Next moment each child was seized by an
Indian; each closedits eyes and tried not to
scream. They waited for the sharp agony of
the knife. It did not come. Next moment

theywere released,and fell in a trembling

heap. Their headsdid not hurt at all. They
only felt strangely cool! Wild war-whoops
rang in their ears. When they ventured to
opentheir eyes they saw four of their foes
dancing round them with wild leaps and
screams,and each of the four brandished in
hishanda scalpof long flowing black hair.
Theyput their handsto their heads-their own
scalpswere safe! The poor untutored sav-
ageshad indeed scalped the children. But
theyhad only, so to speak,scalpedthem of
theblackcalicoringlets!
Thechildrenfell into eachother'sarms,
sobbing
andlaughing.
283
 FIVE CHILDREN AND IT

"Their scalps are ours," chanted the chief;

"ill-rooted were their ill-fated hairs! They
came off in the hands of the victors-without
struggle, without resistance, they yielded
their scalpsto the conquering Rock-dwellers!
Oh, how little a thing is a scalp so lightly
won!"
"They'll take our real ones in a minute;
you see if they don't," said Robert, trying to
rub some of the red ochre off his face and
hands on to his hair.

" Cheated of our just and fiery revenge are

we," the chant went on,-" but there are other
torments than the scalping-knife and the
flames. Yet is the slow fire the correct thing.
O strange unnatural country, wherein a man
may find no wood to burn his enemy!-Ah
for the boundless forests of my native land,
where the great trees for thousandsof miles
grow but to furnish firewood wherewithal to
burn our foes. Ah, would we were but in
our native forest once more!"
Suddenly like a flash of lightning, the
golden gravel shone all round the four chil-
284
Brightkniveswerebeingbrandishedall
about them
 SCALPS

dreninsteadof the dusky figures. For every

singleIndianhad vanishedon the instant at
their leader's word. The Psammead must
have been there all the time. And it had
giventhe Indianchief his wish.

Marthabrought home a jug with a pattern

of storksand long grasseson it. Also she
broughtback all Anthea's money.
"My cousin,she gave me the jug for luck;
shesaid it was an odd one what the basin of
hadgot smashed."
"Oh, Martha, you are a dear!" sighed An-
thea,throwing her arms round her.
"Yes," giggled Martha, "you'd better
makethemostof me while you've got me. I
shallgiveyour ma notice directly minute she
comes back."

" Oh,Martha,we haven'tbeenso very hor-

rid to you,havewe?" askedAnthea,aghast.
"Oh,it isn'tthat,miss." Martha giggled
more than ever. " I'm a-goin' to be married.
It'sBeale
thegamekeeper.
He'sbeena-pro-
posin'
to meoff andon eversinceyou come
285
 FIVE CHILDREN AND IT

home from the clergyman'swhere you got

locked up on the church-tower. And to-day
I said the word an' made him a happy man."

Anthea put the seven-and-fourpenceback

in the missionary-box, and pasted paper over
the place where the poker had broken it.
She was very glad to be able to do this, and
she does not know to this day whether break-
ing open a missionary-box is or is not a hang-
ing matter!

286
 CHAPTER XI (AND LAST)'
THE LAST WISH

OFcourse
you,
who
see
above
that
this
is the eleventh (and last) chapter,
know very well that the day of
which this chapter tells must be the last on
which Cyril, Anthea, Robert, and Jane will
havea chanceof getting anything out of the
Psammead,or Sand-fairy.
But the children themselves did not know
this. They were full of rosy visions, and,
whereason the other days they had often
foundit extremely difficult to think of any-
thing really nice to wish for, their brains
were now full of the most beautiful and sensi-
bleideas. "This," as Jane remarkedafter-
wards,"is alwaysthe way." Everyonewas
upextra early that morning, and theseplans
werehopefullydiscussed
in the gardenbefore
breakfast.The old idea of one hundred
287
 FIVE CHILDREN AND IT

pounds in modern florins was still first favour-

ite, but there were othersthat ran it close-the
chief of these being the "pony-each" idea.
This had a great advantage. You could wish
for a pony each during the morning, ride it all
day, have it vanish at sunset,and wish it back
again next day. Which would be an econ-
omy of litter and stabling. But at break-
fast two things happened. First, there was
a letter from mother. Granny was better,
and mother and father hoped to be home that
very afternoon. A cheer arose. And of
course this news at once scattered all the be-

fore-breakfast wish-ideas. For everyone saw

quite plainly that the wish of the day must be
something to pleasemother and not to please
themselves.

" I wonder what she would like," pondered

Cyril.
" She'd like us all to be good," said Jane
primly.
"Yes-but that's so dull for us," Cyril re-
joined; " and besides,I shouldhopewe could
be that without sand-fairiesto help us. No;
288
 THE LAST WISH

it must be something splendid, that we

couldn't
possiblygetwithout wishingfor."
"Look out," said Anthea in a warning
voice;"don't forget yesterday. Remember,
wegetourwishesnowjust whereverwe hap-
pento be when we say ' I wish.' Don't let's

let ourselvesin for anything silly-to-day of

all days."
"All right," said Cyril. " You needn't talk
so much."
Justthen Martha came in with a jug full of
hot water for the tea-pot-and a face full of
importancefor the children.
" A blessingwe're all alive to eat our break-
fast!" shesaid darkly.
"Why, whatever's happened?" everybody
asked.

"Oh,nothing,"saidMartha, "only it seems

nobody's
safefrom being murderedin their
beds
nowadays."
" Why,"saidJaneasan agreeable
thrill of
horror
randownherbackandlegsandoutat
hertoes,
"hasanyone beenmurderedin their
"I beds?"

289
 FIVE CHILDREN AND IT

"Well-not exactly," said Martha; "but

they might just as well. There's been bur-
glars over at Peasmarsh Place-Beale's just
told me-and they've took every single one
of Lady Chittenden's diamonds and jewels
and things, and she's a-goin out of one faint-
ing fit into another, with hardly time to say
' Oh, my diamonds!' in between. And Lord
Chittenden's away in London."
"Lady Chittenden," said Anthea; "we've
seen her. She wears a red-and-white dress,
and she has no children of her own and can't
abide other folkses'."
"That's her," said Martha. "Well, she's
put all her trust in riches, and you see how
she's served. They say the diamonds and
things wasworth thousandsof pounds. There
was a necklace and a river-whatever that is

-and no end of bracelets; and a tarrer and

ever so many rings. But there, I mustn't
stand talking and all the place to clean down
afore your ma comeshome."
" I don't seewhy she should ever have had
such lots of diamonds," said Anthea when
.290
 THE LAST WISH

Marthahad flouncedoff. " She was not at

allanicelady,I thought. And motherhasn't
anydiamonds,
and hardly any jewels-the
topaz
necklace,
andthesapphirering daddy
gave
herwhentheywereengaged, andthe
garnetstar,andthe little pearl brooch with
great-grandpapa's
hair in it,-that's about
all."

"When I'm grown up I'll buy mother no

endof diamonds,"said Robert, " if shewants
them. I shall make so much money explor-
ing in Africa I shan't know what to do
with it."

"Wouldn't it be jolly," said Jane dreamily,

" if mothercouldfind all theselovely things,
necklaces and rivers of diamonds and tar-
rers?"

"Ti-aras," saidCyril.
" Ti-aras,then,-andringsandeverything
in her room when she came home. I wish
shewould "-

Theothersgazedat her in horror.

"Well,shewill," saidRobert;"you've
wished,
mygoodJane-andouronlychance
291
 FIVE CHILDREN AND IT

now is to find the Psammead,and if it's in a

good temper it may take back the wish and
give us another. If not-well-goodness
knows what we're in for!-the police of
course, and Don't cry, silly! We'll
stand by you. Father says we need never to
be afraid if we don't do anything wrong and
always speak the truth."
But Cyril and 'Anthea exchanged gloomy
glances. They remembered how convincing
the truth about the Psammead had been once
before when told to the police.
It was a day of misfortunes. Of coursethe
Psammead could not be found. Nor the
jewels, though every one of the children
searchedthe mother's room again and again.
" Of course," Robert said, " we couldn't find
them. It'll be mother who'll do that. Per-
haps she'll think they've beenin the housefor
years and years, and never know they are the
stolen ones at all."

" Oh yes!" Cyril was very scornful; " then

mother will be a receiver of stolen goods,and
you knowjolly well what that'sworsethan."
292
 THE LAST WISH

Anotherand exhaustivesearch of the sand-

pit failedto revealthe Psammead,
so the
children went back to the house slowly and
sadly.
" I don't care," said Anthea stoutly, " we'll
tell motherthe truth, and she'll give back the
jewels-andmakeeverythingall right."
"Do you think so?" said Cyril slowly.
" Do youthink she'll believe us? Could any-
onebelieve about a Sammyadd unless they'd
seenit? She'll think we're pretending. Or
elseshe'll think we're raving mad, and then
we shall be sent to the mad-house. How

wouldyou like it? "-he turned suddenly on

themiserableJane,-" how would you like it,
to be shut up in an iron cage with bars and
paddedwalls, and nothing to do but stick
strawsin your hair all day, and listen to the
howlings
andravingsof the other maniacs?
Make
upyourmindsto it, all of you. It's no
usetelling mother."
"Butit's true,"saidJane.
"Of course it is,butit's nottrueenough
for
grown-uppeople to believe it," said Anthea.
293
 FIVE CHILDREN AND IT

" Cyril's right. Let's put flowers in all the

vases, and try not to think about the dia-
monds. After all, everythinghascomeright
in the end all the other times."
So they filled all the pots they could find
with flowers-asters and zinnias, and loose-
leaved late red roses from the wall of the

stableyard,till the housewas a perfect bower.

And almost as soon as dinner was cleared

away mother arrived, and was clasped in

eight loving arms. It was very difficult in-
deed not to tell her all about the Psammead at

once, becausethey had got into the habit of

telling her everything. But they did succeed
in not telling her.
Mother, on her side, had plenty to tell them
-about Granny, and Granny's pigeons, and
Auntie Emma's lame tame donkey. She was
very delighted with the flowery-boweryness
of the house; and everything seemedso natural
and pleasant, now that she was home again,
that the children almost thought they must
have dreamed the Psammead.
But, when mother moved towards the stairs
294
She
was
clasped
in eightlovingarms
 THE LAST WISH

togouptoherbedroom andtakeoff herbon-

net,theeightarmsclungroundherjust asif
sheonlyhadtwochildren,onetheLamband
the other an octopus.
"Don't go up, mummydarling," said An-
thea;"let me takeyour things up for you."
"Or I will," said Cyril.
" Wewant you to come and look at the rose-
tree," said Robert.
"Oh, don't go up! " said Jane helplessly.
"Nonsense,dears," said mother briskly,
"I'm not such an old woman yet that I can't
takemy bonnetoff in the proper place. Be-
sides I must wash these black hands of mine."
Soup shewent, and the children, following
her, exchangedglances of gloomy fore-
boding.
Mothertookoff her bonnet,-it was a very
prettyhat, really, with white rosesin it,-
andwhenshehad taken it off she went to the
dressing-table
to do her prettyhair.
Onthetablebetweenthering-stand andthe
pin-cushion
lay a greenleathercase.Mother
opened it.

295
 FIVE CHILDREN AND IT

"Oh, how lovely!" she cried. It was a

ring, a large pearl with shining many-lighted
diamonds set round it. "Wherever did this
come from? " mother asked, trying it on her
wedding finger, which it fitted beautifully.
" However did it come here? "
" I don't know," said each of the children
truthfully.
" Father must have told Martha to put it
here," mother said. " I'll run down and ask
her."

" Let me look at it," said Anthea, who knew

Martha would not be able to see the ring.
But when Martha was asked, of course she
denied putting the ring there, and so did
Eliza and cook.

Mother came back to her bedroom, very

much interested and pleased about the ring.
But, when she opened the dressing-table
drawer and found a long casecontaining an
almost priceless diamond necklace, she was
more interested still, though not so pleased.
In the wardrobe, when she went to put away
her " bonnet," she found a tiara and several
296
 THE LAST WISH

brooches,and the rest of the jewellery turned

up in variousparts of the room during the
next half-hour. The children looked more
and more uncomfortable, and now Jane be-
ganto sniff.
Mother looked at her gravely.
"Jane," she said, "I am sure you know
somethingaboutthis. Now think before you
speak,and tell me the truth."
"We found a Fairy," said Jane obedi-
ently.
"No nonsense,please," said her mother
sharply.
"Don't be silly, Jane," Cyril interrupted.
Then he went on desperately. " Look here,
mother,we've never seen the things before,
but Lady Chittenden at PeasmarshPlace lost
all her jewellery by wicked burglars last
night. Could this possiblybe it?"
All drewa deepbreath. They weresaved.
" But howcouldtheyhaveput it here?And
why shouldthey?" askedmother,not unrea-
sonably. " Surely it would have been easier
and safer to make off with it? "
297
 FIVE CHILDREN AND IT

" Suppose,"said Cyril, " they thought it

better to wait for-for sunset-nightfall, I
mean, before they went off with it. No one
but us knew that you were coming back
to-day."
" I must sendfor the police at once,"said
mother distractedly. " Oh, how I wish
daddy were here!"
"Wouldn't it be better to wait till he does
come?" asked Robert, knowing that his
father would not be home before sunset.
" No, no; I can't wait a minute with all this
on my mind," cried mother. " All this" was
the heap of jewel-caseson the bed. They put
them all in the wardrobe, and mother locked
it. Then mother called Martha.

" Martha," shesaid," hasany strangerbeen

into my room sinceI've been away? Now,
answer me truthfully."
;'No, mum," answeredMartha; "leastways,
what I mean to say"--
She stopped.
" Come," said her mistresskindly, " I see
someone has. You must tell me at once.
298
"Wefound
aFairy,"saidJaneobediently
 THE LAST WISH

Don't be frightened. I'm sure you haven't

doneanything wrong."
Martha burst into heavy sobs.
" I wasa-goin' to give you warning this very
day, mum, to leave at the end of my month,
so I was,-on account of me being going to
make a respectable young man happy. A
gamekeeper he is by trade, mum-and I
wouldn't deceive you-of the name of Beale.
And it's as true as I stand here, it was your
coming home in such a hurry, and no warning
given, out of the kindness of his heart it was,
as he says,' Martha, my beauty,' he says,-"
which I ain't, and never was, but you know
how them men will go on,-' I can't seeyou
a-toiling and a-moiling and not lend a 'elping
'and; which mine is a strong arm, and it's
yours Martha, my dear,' sayshe. And so he
helped me a-cleanin' of the windows-but
outside,mum, the whole time, and me in; if
I neversayanotherbreathing word it's gospel
truth."

"Were you with him the whole time?"

asked her mistress.

299
 FIVE CHILDREN AND IT

" Him outside and me in, I was," said Mar-

tha; " except for fetching up a fresh pail and
the leather that that slut of a Eliza 'd hidden
away behind the mangle."
" That will do,"' said the children's mother.
" I am not pleasedwith you, Martha, but you
have spoken the truth, and that counts for
something."
When Martha had gone, the children clung
round their mother.

" Oh, mummy darling," cried Anthea, " it

isn't Beale's fault, it isn't really! He's a great
dear; he is, truly and honourably, and as hon-
est as the day. Don't let the police take him,
mummy! Oh, don't, don't, don't!"
It was truly awful. Here was an innocent
man accusedof robbery through that silly wish
of Jane's, and it was absolutely uselessto tell
the truth. All longed to, but they thought of
the straws in the hair and the shrieks of the

other frantic maniacs, and they could not

do it
" Is there a cart hereabouts?" asked the
mother feverishly. "A trap of any sort? I
300
 THE LAST WISH

must drive in to Rochesterand tell the police

at once."
All the children sobbed,"There's a cart at
the farm, but, oh, don't go!-don't go!-oh,
don't go!-wait till daddy comeshome!"
Mother took not the faintest notice. When
she had set her mind on a thing she always
went straight through with it; shewas rather
like Anthea in this respect.
" Look here, Cyril," shesaid,sticking on her
hat with long sharp violet-headed pins, " I
leave you in charge. Stay in the dressing-
room. You can pretend to be swimming
boatsin the bath, or something. Say I.gave
you leave. But stay there, with the door on
the landing open; I've locked the other. And
don't let anyonego into my room. Remem-
ber, no one knows the jewels are there except
me, and all of you, and the wicked thieves
who put them there. Robert,you stayin the
garden and watch the windows. If anyone
tries to get in you must run and tell the two
farm men that I'll send up to wait in the
kitchen. I'll tell them there are dangerous
301
 FIVE CHILDREN AND IT

characters about-that's true enough. Now

remember, I trust you both. But I don't think
they'll try it till after dark, so you're quite
safe. Good-bye, darlings."
And she locked her bedroom door and went
off with the key in her pocket.
The children could not help admiring the
dashing and decided way in which she had
acted. They thought how useful she would
have been in organising escapefrom someof
the tight places in which they had found
themselvesof late in consequenceof their ill-
timed wishes.

" She'sa born general," said Cyril,-" but I

don't know what's going to happen to us.
Even if the girls were to hunt for that old
Sammyadd and find it, and get it to take the
jewels away again, mother would only think
we hadn't looked out properly and let the
burglars sneak in and get them-or else the
police will think we've got them-or else
that she's been fooling them.. Oh, it's a
pretty decent average ghastly messthis time,
and no mistake!"

302
 THE LAST WISH

He savagelymade a paper boat and began

to float it in the bath, as he had been told
to do.
Robert went into the garden and sat down
on the worn yellow grass, with his miserable
head between his helpless hands.
Anthea and Jane whispered together in the
passage downstairs, where the cocoanut mat-
ting was-with the hole in it that you always
caught your foot in if you were not careful.
Martha's voice could be heard in the kitchen,
-grumbling loud and long.
" It's simply quite too dreadfully awful,"
saidAnthea. " How do you know all the dia-
monds are there, too? If they aren't, the
police will think mother and father have got
them, and that they've only given up some of
them for a kind of desperate blind. And
they'll be put in prison, and we shall be
brandedoutcasts,the children of felons. And
it won't be at all nice for father and mother
either," she added, by a candid after-thought.
" But what can we do?" asked Jane.
"Nothing-at least we might look for the
303
 FIVE CHILDREN AND IT

Psammeadagain. It's a very, very hot day.

He may have come out to warm that whisker
of his."
" He won't give us any more beastly wishes
to-day," said Jane flatly. " He gets crosser
and crosserevery time we seehim. I believe
he hates having to give wishes."
Anthea had been shaking her head gloomily
-now shestopped shaking it so suddenly that
it really looked as though she were pricking
up her ears.
"What is it?" asked Jane. "Oh, have you
thought of something?"
" Our one chance," cried Anthea dramati-
cally; "the last lone-lorn forlorn hope.
Come on."
At a brisk trot sheled the way to the sand-pit.
Oh, joy!-there was the Psammead,basking
in a golden sandy hollow and preening its
whiskers happily in the glowing afternoon
sun. The moment it saw them it whisked
round and began to burrow-it evidently pre-
ferred its own company to theirs. But An-
thea was too quick for it. She caught it by
304
 THE LAST WISH

its furry shouldersgently but firmly, and

held it.
" Here-none of that!" said the Psammead.
" Leave go of me, will you? "
But Anthea held him fast.
" Dear kind darling Sammyadd," she said
breathlessly.
"Oh yes-it's all very well," it said; "you
want another wish, I expect. But I can't
keep on slaving from morning till night giv-
ing people their wishes. I must have some
time to myself."
" Do you hate giving wishes?" askedAnthea
gently, and her voice trembled with excite-
ment.

" Of courseI do," it said. " Leave go of me

or I'll bite!-I really will-I mean it. Oh,
well, if you choose to risk it."
Anthea risked it and held on.

" Look here," she said, " don't bite me-

listen to reason. If you'll only do what we
want to-day, we'll never ask you for another
wish aslong aswe live."
The Psammead was much moved.
305
 FIVE CHILDREN AND IT

" I'd do anything," it said in a tearful voice.

" I'd almost burst myself to give you one wish
after another, as long as I held out, if you'd
only never, never ask me to do it after to-day.
If you knew how I hate to blow myself out
with other people's wishes, and how fright-
ened I am always that I shall strain a muscle
or something. And then to wake up every
morning, and know you've got to do it. You
don't know what it is-you don't know what
it is, you don't!" Its voice cracked with
emotion, and the last "don't" was a squeak.
Anthea set it down gently on the sand.
" It's all over now," she said soothingly.
"We promise faithfully never to ask for an-
other wish after to-day."
"Well, go ahead," said the Psammead;
" let's get it over."
"How many can you do?"
" I don't know-as long as I can hold out."
"Well, first, I wish Lady Chittenden may
find she's never lost her jewels."
The Psammead blew itself out, collapsed,
and said, " Done."
306
 THE LAST WISH

" I wish," said Anthea more slowly, " mother

mayn't get to the police."
" Done,"said the creatureafter the proper
interval.

" I wish," said Jane suddenly, " mother

could forget all about the diamonds."
"Done," said the Psammead;but its voice
was weaker.
"Would you like to rest a little?" asked
Anthea considerately.
"Yes, please," said the Psammead;"and,
beforewe go any further, will you wish some-
thing forme? "
" Can't you do wishes for yourself?"
"Of course not," it said; "we were always
expectedto give each other our wishes-not
that we had any to speakof in the good old
Megatherium days. Just wish, will you, that
you may never be able, any of you, to tell any-
one a word about Me."

"Why?" askedJane.
" Why, don't you see,if you told grown-ups
I should have no peaceof my life. They'd
get hold of me, and they wouldn't wish silly
307
 FIVE CHILDREN AND IT

things like you do, but real earnest things;

and the scientific people would hit on some
way of making things last after sunset, as
likely as not; and they'd ask for a graduated
income-tax, and old-age pensions, and man-
hood suffrage, and free secondaryeducation,
and dull things like that; and get them, and
keep them, and the whole world would be
turned topsy-turvy. Do wish it! Quick!"
Anthea repeated the Psammead'swish, and
it blew itself out to a larger size than they had
yet seen it attain.
" And now," it said as it collapsed, " can I
do anything more for you? "
"Just one thing; and I think that clears
everything up, doesn't it, Jane? I wish Mar-
tha to forget about the diamond ring, and
mother to forget about the keeper cleaning
the windows."

" It's like the 'Brass Bottle,'" said Jane.

" Yes, I'm glad we read that or I should
never have thought of it."
" Now," said the Psammead faintly, " I'm
almostworn out. Is there anythingelse?"
308
It burrowed, and disappeared,scratching
fiercelyto the last
 THE LAST WISH

"No; only thank you kindly for all you've

donefor us,andI hopeyou'll havea goodlong
sleep,and I hope we shall seeyou again some
day."
" Is that a wish? " it said in a weak voice.
"Yes, please,"said the two girls together.
Then for the last time in this story they saw
the Psammeadblow itself out and collapse
suddenly. It nodded to them, blinked its
long snail's eyes,burrowed, and disappeared,
scratching fiercely to the last, and the sand
closed over it.

" I hope we've done right? " said Jane.

" I'm sure we have," said Anthea. " Come
on homeand tell the boys."
Anthea found Cyril glooming over his paper
boats,and told him. Jane told Robert. The
two taleswere only just endedwhen mother
walked in, hot and dusty. Sheexplainedthat
as shewasbeing driven into Rochesterto buy
the girls' autumn school-dresses
the axle had
broken,and but for the narrownessof the lane
and the high soft hedgesshewould havebeen
309
 FIVE CHILDREN AND IT

thrown out. As it was, she was not hurt, but

she had had to walk home. "And oh, my
dearest dear chicks," she said, " I am simply
dying for a cup of tea! Do run and seeif the
water boils!"
" So you see it's all right," Jane whispered.
" She doesn't remember."

" No more does Martha," said Anthea, who

had been to ask after the state of the kettle.
As the servants sat at their tea, Beale the
gamekeeperdropped in. He brought the wel-
come news that Lady Chittenden's diamonds
had not been lost at all. Lord Chittenden had
taken them to be re-set and cleaned, and the
maid who knew about it had gone for a holi-
day. So that was all right.
" I wonder if we ever shall see the Psammead
again," said Jane wistfully as they walked in
the garden, while mother was putting the
Lamb to bed.

" I'm sure we shall," said Cyril, " if you

really wished it."
"We've promised never to ask it for another
wish," said Anthea.
310

LB 0 '10
 THE LAST WISH

" I never want to," said Robert earnestly.

They did seeit again, of course,but not in
this story. And it was not in a sand-piteither,
but in a very, very, very different place. It
wasin a But I must say no more.
 .',-"" ""

SS3H9N03 JO AHVH8I1